Fundamentalisms

It’s people and their lifestyles and mentalities that fascinate me the most when I travel. I have qualms about photographing them though, and often have to tell the story with no pictures to illustrate.

Usually I explain that I feel it’s disrespectful: to click at people like that is to relate to them like animals in a zoo. On closer self-scrutiny I realise it’s more, and not less, respect I need to feel comfortable clicking at them. After all, it’s after I’ve analysed and categorised them, that I want to take their picture, and my discomfort comes from my unacknowledged awareness that I’m not taking a picture of them: I’m just securing their image to illustrate the accuracy of my interpretation of them. Had my thoughts about the people I observe been more charitable, I wouldn’t feel such intense discomfort in taking photos of them. Respectful? Me? Hah.

Jerusalem is an eldorado for people-watchers. Fellow-people-watchers had told me this before I went: “a religious carnival” I was told. “Does that mean it’s like a San Francisco for fundamentalists?” a friend asked. I’ve never been to San Francisco, so I couldn’t say.

It didn’t come as a total surprise to me that Jerusalem is important to fundamentalists from several world religions. However, news on the Middle East conflict shows them all up against one another: seeing it all played out in people’s lives in Jerusalem made me think more about how much they all have in common. Starting form that very first drowsy morning in Holy City, after an all-nighter of cross-examinations, sleeping in sardine seats, more cross-examinations and a dreamy midnight drive from Tel Aviv. Sitting in the living room, I was drowsily nursing my still-sleepy soul back to life with a cup of coffee and some channel-surfing when I heard the familiar comfort of a morning sermon. The story of Jesus healing some guy by the Bethesda pool. Grace. Trust. Mercy. For me, definite soul-nursing...

VOOM!! Some schmarmy American voice comes on! Loud strutting claims fill the room. The People of Israel Are Seeing the Light. Unwarranted assumptions, covert political agendas and ignorance-dependent emotionalism are all mixed together with conveniently uninformed interpretations of biblical texts to form one big “Give Us Your Money”. Wow. I’m awake. Welcome to the Holy Land.

So the Evangelical branch of the Fundamentalist Family are here. We finish our coffees and get out to meet the rest.

Wearing all black doesn’t necessarily mean blending in with the crowd. It’s clear to me that Hasidic Jews are dressing to make a point, but this is the only point I get from their appearance at first. I guess male Hasidic Jews and female hijab-wearing-Muslims have that in common: excellent fashon lessons in How To Get Noticed in Black.

And also fascination from a religious perspective, ie how a sacred text is applied in daily life. I played a little bit of mental Spot the Verse whilst gawking at them, but the only verse that came to my mind was the one about God saying ‘tie these words of mine to you this and that part of your body’. Frolog, whom I'm visiting, however had a more straightforward take on this religious branch. Firstly, they’re annoying because if you drive through their area on a Saturday they throw stones at you (apparently driving a car is work but throwing a stone at you is sheer pleasure and therefore not a breach of Shabat). Secondly, as Frolog says, it’s so mych easier to dress like your great grandfather than to treat other people consistently with kindness and integrity. Your clothes are so much easier to control than your own behaviour towards others. A pretty good paraphrase of Jesus if you ask me.

I wonder if this focus on controlling things and people around you is the common element to religious extremists. Although I don’t at all buy into the ‘all paths lead to God’ spiel, ie that all religions are the same, it seems to me that people within each religion have certain human traits in common. And fundamentalism in particular is more a function of human flaws than divine inspiration, ie more of the human element in it than other strains, so I’m thinking fundamentalisms has more in common across religious divides than other strains of those religions. IMHO of course.

Although most fundamentalists I know of have an above-average interest in controlling outward appearance and controlling other people, in The Holy Land the thing seems to be more about territoriality. Searching for sites to see in the Holy City in particular was disappointing. The Mount of Olives? Sure, we can go see the place where Jesus wept. Which church do you want? Because of course there’s nothing left of it now, it’s covered with churches, each with a claim more ludicrous than the other. This one has Jesus’ toenail in it, that one Peter’s chopped-off ear. (Actually I’m making that up – I can’t remember the exact anatomical parts involved, but something incredibly holy and surprisingly tangible.) Same thing for all the holy sites, with the Church of the Holy Sepulchre forming an all-in-one plethora of relics, a microcosm of geopolitical rivalries as each of the self-proclaimed Cristian powers staked their claim to this particular holy site, each building an extra part to the church. And then of course, there are the ruins of the Jewish Temple, with the Al Aqsa Mosque now built so solidly on top.

In short, like peeing dogs, men have staked out their territorial claims all over the Holy Land (… that is, if something so soaked in urine can still be called ‘holy’…. can it?)

And these were the thoughts I was having when I was actually trying to be DEVOUT. Imagine. Anyway, when I tried to chase them away for the nth time, I was reminded of Jesus’ criticisms of the religious power-mongers of his own day. His words were even more vulgar, and a lot of it was about how hung up they were on outward appearances and control, as well as religious monuments. And then that repetitive anti-territoriality: "My kingdom is not of this world…"

Anyway it’d probably be unfair of me to brand Orthodox Judaism as territorial fundamentalism. Firstly because, beyond the haircurlers, I know nothing about them. Secondly because they’re not particularly Zionist from what I hear.

As usual, no-one does Fundamentalism as well as the Americans. Strolling through the Old City we meet two versions. The Christian type came in a herd that almost trampled us down as we turned a corner. I had to turn around and look back to make sure I'd really seen what I thought I'd seen. No, the surprise was no that they were Americans and that we still hadn’t heard them coming. They had guns with them. Bermuda shorts, white trainers, the whole casual look going on, and then - guns. Three body guards for a tourist group of 7. And no, they weren’t VIPs, they were regular tourists, there to walk in Jesus’ footsteps. True men and women of faith. Halleluyah.

The second version were the rich Jewish American housewives. The same voices, but with no denim and hardly any skin showing. But here, what speaks louder even than their them is their cover-that-sinful-skin clothes and hi-tech baby carriages: everything about them screams money, money money. Money spent righteously on me and mine. Something about their lifestyle, and even more their CHOICE of it, gives me the creeps. Literally. My arms were covered in goosebumps every time I passed by a group.

And I couldn't quite explain it. Nothing to do with Judaism, everything to do with a sense of their hardness towards people weaker than them, so beautifully coupled with an ostentatious subservience to their self-chosen authorities. A shock of recognition. That's what made my hair stand on end. I knew these people, I'd seen them before - my church in the UK, for example, belonged to them. And here it was again, following me all the way here : this drawing God down from the sky to ease one's own self-serving complacency. As effortlessly as you can draw down a blind. No wonder something inside me recoiled.

And all these insightful observations from someone who barely spoke with any of these people. Speaking of fundamentalism, what's the definition of 'prejudice' again ... ?

Israeli security

"WHY ARE YOU GOING TO ISRAEL??!!"
For a while I thought I'd never make it to Israel or Palestine. And I hadn't even worked out which one I was heading for. Already at Schiphol the cross-examinations started. Visiting a friend? What's his name? Where did you meet? What is your relationship? What were you doing when you met? Gosh. I was prepared to walk around with my mascara and eyeliner on constant display in a scant plastic bag, even to strip off my boots to the embarassment of my mismatched socks, but this??? Don't these control freaks ever get enough? It seems every little inch of intimate space they invade just leaves these security officers thirsting for more.

Stunned into honesty, I broke all dealing-with-nazis etiquette and told them the truth. My friend is working in Gaza helping The Enemy, we met in a muslim country, I have lived and worked in Muslim countries, yes I intend to visit Palestinian territories. After about an hour like this, the officer still hadn't told me the names of her friends, and she didn't look like she was about to share her curriculum vita with me. But she let me get on the plane.

So that's how the fun started. The Israeli Security officers, it seems, are one big happy family, and so once you get friendly with one of them, they all want to meet you. At the Tel Aviv Airport, at the motorway checkpoints, at the Wailing Wall - everywhere. However the x-ray machines at the wailing wall entrance are nothing to worry about. In fact they're totally kosher. Rabbi Rabbinowitz has deduced from Scripture that you will not harm your mojo by going through them on the Shabat - a reassurance the Security Family thoughtfully informed me of.

Ok, enough about the security. The first few days we spent wandering around in the old city. Fascinating. I hadn't read up on anything, so it was all new and interesting. Like , erm, that the wailing wall is actually the remains of the temple, and that the Al Aqsa mosque is built on top of it.... yeah... maybe I should stop here before my shameless ignorance so disgusts you that you read no further? I'll take a break to formulate the few thoughts I have before going on.

So Americans with guns, Shabat elevators, howling Nigerians, unexpected encounters in the Dead Sea, stunning Caesarea, Godsend beaches and the myth-spun Masada...... that will all have to come later!!!!

Watch this space and thanks for reading!

Travel blog

Welcome!

I plan for this blog to be about my travels. Why? Well, in mourning the slow and painful death of previous well-intentioned blogs, and noticing friends who keep going with such enviable ease, I've decided that the secret of their success is just following this pretty simple recipe. When on holiday, eat good food. Before shovelling in, point the camera at your plate, click and post. Blog entries: 1. When on holiday, go look at something pretty or old or famous - or in my case, totally bizarre. Look at it through your camera. Click. Post. Blog entries: 2. And so on. Then you can get home and sit on your butt for 5 months, and from the look of your blog, nobody would ever guess.

Good plan, huh? So in two days' time I'm heading to Israel. Or is it Palestine? I'm flying in to Israel, but going to see Palestine. And Israel. Yesterday I offended someone by saying I was going to Palestine. I guess if you don't believe it exists as a state, it's offensive to be told that someone is going there, I mean by saying that they're going there, they're implying that it exists. On the other hand if I said I'm going to Israel, I know certain people would understand that as meaning I'm going on a pilgrimage. And I'm not. Wouldn't that be offensive, isn't misrepresentation offensive?

Ok! I'll be sticking to the food photos then! When a plateful of olive oil fills your screen, you'll know I'm there! Whatever it's called.