Shalom, Israel. L’hitraot (I hope!)

It is almost time.

We are entering our final days of life in Israel. Our cars are gone.  The house is down to bare bones. Our accounts are turned off and closed.  Living in Israel has been an experience I can never fully reflect in words. Its beautiful. It's exciting. Its hard. Its fascinating. Its frustrating. Nothing can ever be easy in this country, yet there is something about the challenge of overcoming the frustrations that make you feel like you are on top of the world. Winning an argument (or at least holding your own!) with an Israeli is one of life's greatest accomplishments. Hell, there are days that just making it to the grocery store and back feels like I accomplished one of life's greatest challenges. (Trust me, if you lived here and you weren't used to the Israel way, you'd feel the same way!)  Leaving this amazing country is hard.  The beauty, the history, the excitement, the pride... something about Israel feels right in my soul.  I love it here, and I am so sad to close this chapter.  I will forever be a supporter of this country, and although I am not an Israeli citizen, I feel so lucky that I have been able to be a part of them for a short time.

When we set out on this adventure, it was really meant to be a temporary, three year adventure for our little family of 3.  A chance for us to explore, see the world, and learn more about this amazing, tiny little country we would otherwise probably never have visited (and definitely never took the time to learn more about.)  I quit my career to say "yes!" to this new, unknown adventure, and I've never looked back.  Making the decision to stay international in our next assignment was a no-brainer for us.  The experiences are so rich, and the chance to raise Ledoux (and soon to be baby J) in different countries and cultures is something that Lee and I believe will make them true world citizens.  Living abroad has opened our eyes to the importance of raising our children to learn, seek to understand, and value the differences in cultures and traditions. Ledoux has friends from across the world, and has learned more about diversity and acceptance in three years than most adults I know.  I want her and her little sister to have exposure and experiences like this that shape who they become, and living in an international landscape allows that. I look at Ledoux and hope that when she grows up and sets off on her own life that she "YES" to every opportunity she can, seeks out adventure, and doesn't let fear of the unknown or unfamiliar dictate her experiences. For us, this lifestyle is encouraging all of those things.

No doubt life in England will be easier in most every way.  I am excited for this, but also wonder if it will get boring? When everything seemingly works they way it should and routines and laws are in place (and followed)... will it get... old? Blah?   Its funny I even write something like that, but transitioning from this country to somewhere like England seems almost too easy.  I also wonder how Lee will do with the transition.  As he says, living in Israel has helped him to "blossom" his skills in confrontation, assertiveness, and overall "I don't give an F*c&itude".   Lee had a call with someone from the UK the other day to set up our bank account there, and by the time the call was over he was so frustrated- visibly annoyed.  Like... you could really tell he was over it.  When asked why, his response was "they are too nice!"  If you know Lee, you know that he fits in really well out here.  I hope he doesn't make someone cry his first day in the new job.

So now, in two days, we set out on part two of this adventure. A new country, a handful of week before we have a new baby, and new friends to be made. With teary eyes, I bid Israel and all of our friends  "L'hitraot"... because we already have plans to return in the spring to visit.  I am leaving a part of me here, and take a small piece in my heart.

Shalom, Israel... and like Ledoux said: "It is time to go make new memories!"

XO, The Abels

A Red Harley

The Red Harley I imagined

Pregnancy turns you into a special kind of crazy.  There is crazy- and then there is me.  The special kind. 

I don't have any fun doctor stories to share this week.  I actually got a go an entire week without seeing a single doctor.  Or a blood-puller-outer. (They are called phlebotomists, right?) I didn't have to show a single ultrasound picture to anyone. (You need to read last week's post if you don't understand...) And I didn't have to pee in a cup. 

But I did have an epic meltdown.  It was so epic that Lee and I took pictures.  It was a total out of body experience- I was a HOT MESS and couldn't stop myself- I knew in my head I was turning a corner in my pregnancy- from controlled psycho to straight out, legit, psychopath.  No more leashing it in, no more hiding it, we are at a new stage in this pregnancy.  Effing Psychotic Maniac stage.  My head was saying "Becca, WTF is wrong with you? Stop it!" but my body was saying "Rage on, Psycho!" And rage on I did.

My Veggie Chips.

It started with veggie chips. I love veggie chips. They make me feel healthy AF. (Side note: using these acronyms makes me feel "hip" and "cool" and not like a mid 30's mom trying too hard. Judge me, I don't GAF.)  Anyway, back to my chips.  Today they made me want to puke.  Such a downer. All I could think about all morning was Lee bringing me to the health food store to pick up veggie chips. I love the smell.  I love to color of them.  I love that I buy them at the health store so I feel sooooo obviously healthy.  I grabbed my chips, waiting in line, paid for them, and was ready to get to the car and eat them. The things my dreams are made of... atleast today.  Imagine the let down when I got all the way back to the car and opened them up, only for them to make my stomach turn. The smell, the texture, all of it made me sick. And then my favorite soda water (which makes me feel like I'm drinking a cocktail because of the bubble water) tasted meh. Coupled with the onset queasiness from my chips, it was an immediate mood buster. Double let down.  And this started the snowball that ended in my preggo crazy being elevated to a 10.

I'm cute, I know. 

On the drive back, Lee started talking about motorcycles.  Typically I semi-tune out for this, because I don't know the difference between an exhaust and a carburetor. Do motorcycles even have that? Case in point, I have no clue.  Anyway, today I was listening.  He was telling me all about the new Harleys that are coming out, and the engines and how fast they are, etc. etc.  And then he started telling me about a new color he likes-RED.  This is a pretty typical Lee conversation.  But today, all I could think about was Lee buying a new bike and then going fast, which then made me think about him popping wheelies on his Harley (again, can you even do that?) and I was imagining all of this and then BOOM! I thought, he can NEVER have a red harley- because I cannot do life without him.  And a red harley will certainly cause him to act reckless and something will happen. No other color Harley you guys, just Red. (Totally makes sense, right?)  All of this is going through my head as Lee is talking- and I just burst out into hysterical tears.  Poor guy just looked at me and wondered what he said wrong.

This then turned into my hysterically crying over what I would do without him.  Which turned into me crying that little baby girl wouldn't meet Lee.  Which turned into me crying because I would have to work 3 jobs and would be alone. Which turned into me crying because I really wanted to eat my veggie chips.  Which reminded me how angry and frustrated I was that my soda water didn't taste right. A viscous circle of sadness and anger and let down, and I just cycled through all of this- each time with my crying getting heavier.

Hysterical Laughing Stage. 

And then, in this exact moment, my phone got a notification from google photos.  Effing google photos sent me a "memory" picture from 5 years ago and my hysterical crying turned into full body sobs because I looked cute.  And I liked my hair do.  Which then caused me to completely ruin my current hair do to make a point that I wasn't nearly as cute now as I was then.  (And even if I thought I was, ruining my hair do completely ruined that.)  Picture someone with makeup running, crying, and running their hands through their hair messing it up- all to make a point that I am no longer cute.  Psycho.

And then I started laughing.  Hysterically laughing.  And Lee started laughing. Which caused me to cry because he wasn't taking me seriously.  And in the middle of full body sobs I started laughing again. Seriously... this is life with me as a pregnant person.  And we're only half way done!  Buckle up, Lee.  This is going to get "fun".


Oh, and once I finally fixed myself up enough to leave the car and walk into the light where someone might see me, Lee said "So I guess its a no on getting that red harley, huh?" 

Balagan Gadol

Turns out this is the key to everything

A Big Mess.  Balagan Gadol.  That is how I will describe my first week of pregnancy in Israel.   You guys, I couldn't make this up if I tried.

A quick summary of week 1:  I had my first OB appointment on Friday (August 10th) and since then, I have had 3 ultrasounds.  And the standard blood/urine tests (which took 3 hours, story below).  And I've seen my doctor twice and another doctor once.  I am sure you are thinking "Holy cow Becca, something must be wrong!" but no, no, no... nothing is wrong. This is just pregnancy in Israel.  Looking forward, I have two more doctor visits scheduled in the next 6 weeks because we go every 3 weeks.  And 4 more ultrasounds.  I'm not kidding.   Not only do I get two do 2 "standard" ultrasounds in the next 6 weeks, but also a maternal cardiologist scan, and than another anatomy scan. I told my OB today that I have already had more ultrasounds in one week than I did the entire time I was pregnant with Ledoux.  He gave me a smile and a laugh- perhaps he thought I was exaggerating? Maybe it was the language barrier? I'll never know. 
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If you have 5 minutes and want to be amused at my expense, I'd like to share the mess that we had to go through today to get a standard blood draw. A blood draw that in the end took 3 minutes, but took us 3 hours to do.  How is that possible you ask? Allow me to share the balagan that we went through today.

Lee and I dropped Ledoux off at school and we headed to the blood lab. I had to go get the typical blood tests done that are required in weeks 16-20- no biggie.  I knew where to go, had the exact blood lab form with me so I could hand it to the lab, and was certain this would be a no fuss visit.

Ya Effing Right. I forgot I am in Israel.

When we got to the lab, I handed the lady (who speaks zero english) the form.  She looked at it, and then went to the back.  I assumed it was all good so I took a seat to wait for her to call me in. A few minutes later we hear a couple voices speaking in Hebrew- I don't know exactly what they said, but they were clearly confused and arguing about something.  The lady came back up and brought with her someone who spoke a teeny bit of english. They didn't understand what one of the tests was that the doctor wanted done (for all you preggo people, its the standard Alpha Beta Protein test... nothing crazy!) We don't understand Hebrew, they don't understand english, so we ended up calling my OB to talk to them directly.  Luckily, he actually answers his cell phone on the weekends (Friday is a weekend day in Israel).  All seemed beseder, everyone at the lab now understood, so we hung up with the doctor.

Blood test time! Woop! Lets get this done so I can get breakfast. Not so fast...

 The lab lady said "Do you have your ultrasound?" Uhhh... what? I don't carry my ultrasound picture around with me?!  She continued to try and tell me that in order to have my blood drawn I needed to give them my ultrasound picture.  We argued back and forth (well actually Lee argued and I just stood there trying not to loose my shit) trying to understand why on earth they needed that. Lee even had pictures on his phone that he could email them, but it still wasn't good enough.  They wanted a legit, original picture. We continued to ask WHY, and they called "management." Great, we are going to get thrown out.  "Management" came up, and said in Israel it is required that we provide ultrasounds in order to do these tests. And then he walked away.  Thanks for clarifying, dude!  I mean, come on guys... clearly I am not there to get a pregnancy blood screen done for the hell of it.  Trust me, if I had my choice, I would be at the Shuk drinking beer right now and working on my buzz but I am most certainly pregnant- hence the reason I am sitting there with them trying to get my PREGNANCY LABS DONE!  Not sure why I need to provide an ultrasound picture to prove this.   I can't imagine people go do pregnancy labs for the fun of it.

Since we didn't have this golden picture, she agreed to do two of the blood tests but the third would have to wait until I brought her the scan. I didn't want my visit to be a total waste of time, so I agreed to do what we could. Then she asked me to pay 780 NIS. Roughly $215 US dollars.  (We have insurance and everything gets billed through the International department of the medical center we go through- and this lab is a part of that department)  Only then, when I questioned her on why she was trying to charge me, did she realize I was a patient though the International department.  I thought my english and having Lee with me would be a dead giveaway I am not from here, but perhaps we are becoming more Israeli than I thought.  She gave me all my paperwork back, and said I needed to go upstairs to and speak to the medical records department, where I would get yet another form, and then they could proceed to draw my blood (for 2 of the 3 tests) without paying out of pocket.

Deep breathe. Upstairs I went. And I waited.

Another form! And also, they keep our medical records in those high tech plastic sleeves.  Totally efficient! (Sarcasm) 

Sure enough, the nice lady in the medical records department took the lab paperwork from my doctor, and printed out another piece of paper that pretty much indicated exactly what my doctor wrote: do x/y/z tests.  Same stuff, different paper.   In the meantime, Lee had texted my OB to see if he could fax over one of the copies from our ultrasound we did with him a week ago.  He requested that we come in to his office when we finished in the medical records department, and he would just do a new ultrasound.  (Again, thank god my OB actually responds to calls AND texts on a weekend.  And he was in his office!)

He is as thrilled as me to spend all morning doing this.  So. Happy.

Got in the car, headed to Dr. T's office. Got yet another ultrasound done.  Dr. T said them making me bring the ultrasound picture is "Bullshit".  His words, not mine.  But we all agreed.  Its bullshit. Nonetheless, armed with fresh ultrasound pictures AND the same (but different) form for the lab, I was finally going to get my blood drawn!

....Or not.

We got back to the lab, gave the lab lady all of the required information, and were ready to be poked! But, my friends, even with everything we needed, it still wasn't right.  The form I had was in english, and now she wanted the EXACT SAME FORM filled out, only in Hebrew.  She indicated with lots of pointing that I needed to once again go back upstairs and have the medical records department fill it out for me.

Another deep breathe.  So back upstairs and across the courtyard I went.

I payed the sweet old lady yet another visit and explained to her that her form she gave me wasn't enough and they wanted the same form filled out in Hebrew.  She said something (in Hebrew or Russian, not sure) and then said they have never had to do a Hebrew form.  (Reminder: this is the International medical department so its really, really uncommon to have language barrier issues.) When they didn't answer her phone calls,  she grabbed all my paperwork and walked back down to the lab with me. After what I am certain was some scolding on her side, the lab FINALLY agreed to draw my blood.

Oh hey! Its me! Just trying to get my blood drawn and keeps smile on my face. But what I really want to do is kill someone and drink wine. 

3 hours later, we got our super simple blood test.  It took 3 minutes from start to finish. If I have this much content just for a blood draw, imagine what its like to actually have a baby here.  YAY ME! I get to find out!  So. Excited. (that is sarcasm again, FYI)

Ain't it funny how life changes?

Cue the Thomas Rhett Song.  If you don't know this song, or worse yet- don't like country music- are we even friends?  It is kinda my motto right now.  

It seems like when our little family does life changes, we do it BIG.  And this year, we have some biggies coming our way.  

 I figured it would only be right to bring back my poor, sad, lacking attention blog that I started when we moved here to document the fun that is to come.  Well- fun might be a subjective term and I use it a bit sarcastically. Between figuring out our next chapter (where in the world will be go next?!) and our newest arrival... it will be a fun year to share, and if nothing else- I will enjoy looking back on it all someday.  So here we go...

We are entering what is likely going to be our final year in Israel and Ledoux will be celebrating her birthday over here for the third consecutive year.  So crazy to think that this is the third birthday she will have in Israel.  I never in a million years would have thought the time would have gone this fast.  I definitely would have never thought I would love it here.  And now, the thought of leaving leaves me teary eyed.  I love living in Israel- even with the crazy that only can be experienced in this small country... it is a place that has become very much a part of me.  There is truly no other place in the world like it. 

If you missed the big announcement that I thought would never actually come (like-NEVER come as in I wasn't sure we'd ever have another child)- we are going to be a family of 4! SAY WHAAAAT? Yep, that is currently a child growing inside of me. Your shock was nothing compared to mine, I assure you.  REAL TALK for a minute: It took me a solid few weeks to mourn my life of happy hours and wine on the beach and traveling whenever to wherever  and life as I knew it. I don't care if you judge me, its true. And the icing on the cake was knowing this little baby would be born in Israel- not exactly my ideal place to have a baby.  Given how difficult everything can be in Israel... the thought of having a baby out here terrified me (and still does, to be honest!) Between the differences in care, delivery, and lack of shopping options (hello- part of the fun of having a girl is shopping!) it is going to be much, much different than my experience with Ledoux.  Im excited to share it on my blog and document this next crazy chapter.  I have no doubt I will look back on the stories and laugh at them someday.

Practicing with dolls!

Oh, and did you catch that last paragraph?  Yep, its a girl! Lee is screwed- he is totally outnumbered.  He always joked he would need to get a big, male dog someday but I don't think he is joking anymore.  Its his only shot at having another male around.   Everyone asks me if he wanted a boy (mostly because Lee kind of oozes man and testosterone and all that dude stuff...) and to be honest- he actually wanted a girl.  He has got the crazy emotional ups and downs on lock, can do a mean braid, and is getting pretty good at his girl "fash-on" (as Ledoux puts it.) He'd have been happy either way, but girls are what he knows.  And look at that pic? He's a natural!

So friends, here we are- the return of the good old bloggy blog.  I head to my first OB appointment in Israel tomorrow... pray for me mmmmk?  And also, if you are actually going to pray for me, also pray for Lee.  He wasn't here when I was pregs with Ledoux so I am allowing myself full reign to feel all the crazy I didn't get to feel then and send it all his way.  I lost my shit this week because all I wanted was potato soup- I'll spare you the details but when I want potato soup, apparently its life and death.  Atleast you would have thought that given my outburst of tears when we couldn't find it anywhere.  Im a psycho. Totally happy to admit that.  Who in the eff cries about potatoes?  

Pray for Lee, prayer people. Pray Hard.

Stay tuned for all the fun "pregnant in israel" stories to come.  

XO

Our trip to Golan Heights (and so much more!)

Israel soil, but Syria and Lebanon in the distance

I'm a bit late on posting this, but while it is still vivid in my memory I wanted to be sure to document it. Before you read this, I want to make it clear that at no point did we feel unsafe, or in harms way.  There is no way I would every put my sweet baby in a position like that.  IN fact, I felt as safe as anywhere else in this beautiful country and felt truly lucky to be able to learn and see for myself what it was like.  I cannot explain it, but can only tell you that you must experience it yourself to understand.

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Saturday afternoon, 1:30 pm:

It was perfect weather- maybe high 70's, and a light breeze.  Low humidity, which was a welcomed change to the air we were starting to grow used to in Tel Aviv. I remember the moment like a slow motion picture in my head- we were standing on a hill, overlooking the gorgeous scenery of Northern Israel (Golan Heights).  Landscapes of hills, large green pine trees, wild flowers and a feeling like I was back in the mountains of Wyoming- nothing like the scenery we had seen so far in this country (although all that we have seen has been gorgeous in other ways.) There was a faint scent of peppermint as the breeze hit my face- Our guide had made peppermint tea and cookies, and we stood atop this hill and took in the sights. The girls, both near the same age, were running in the small field of flowers and brush, and the boys were all in conversation with each other.  It was an incredible moment in time.

Sweet girls, unaware of where they stood

As I turned my gaze behind me, our guide pointed and said "There it is. Syria."  And in that moment, I realized the gravity of the place in which we stood.  Not because I felt unsafe or scared, but because I was shocked at the vast difference in landscape. And the significance of the cease fire line that was a mere 6 miles from where I stood. Glimpse of American news were flashing through my head.  The Israel side was beautiful, flourishing apple orchards and cherry farms up to the line.  On the other side of the line was desolate... nothing. What was once bunkers and buildings was now rubble.  A stark reminder of where we stood.  As the girls play in the field behind us, our guide continued to explain, unmoved, that if we stayed in this spot long enough we would eventually hear the war.  And 15 minutes later, hear it we did. First gun fire, and then a mortar.

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Preface:

Landmines

Entrance of the bunker

We headed up to the gorgeous Golan Heights earlier that day to stay the night in a Kibbutz with another family- they have a sweet little girl Ledoux's age and the most handsome little boy who is 6 months old.  We rented cabins next to each other, stocked up on wine and snacks, and were on our way for our weekend adventure.  And an adventure it was.  It was my idea to go on a jeep tour of the hills of the Kibbutz, so we met our awesome tour guide, Elaz, early that afternoon.  We climbed steep hills, went down inclines so steep we couldn't see the bottom (eek!) and went through apple orchards where we got fresh picked apples.  Although gorgeous, we couldn't help but notice the "DANGER: Landmine" signs every 6 feet.  Our guide, who had lived in the Kibbutz his whole life, explained that most aren't active, but you certainly don't want to chance it. (No Shit, buddy!) It was then that I realized we weren't in Kansas anymore... and as we got closer to the Syrian border, it became more apparent.  At one point, we came as close as 300 feet from Syria- through an active Military base that only our guide (and one other) have access to.  We saw and walked through the bunkers, the buildings, and the land that was once controlled by Syria.

We got out of the jeep at one point to explore the underground bunker- it was dark. Cold. A feeling of stagnant air and a hint of nerves hit me. I descended into the ground on the chipped cement stairs and I noticed porcupine quills to my left.  The white in them was a sharp contrast the to the dark.  I couldn't help but wonder what the quills had been used to attack.. if anything.  The area was so desolate I couldn't imagine it being spooked by someone.  As I continued the decline below the ground, a spider the size of a man's hand hung in front of me, and I screamed for anyone to come- I certainly wasn't going to try and pass it. It was then that I wanted to turn around and leave, but I saw the sun shining through a small area in front of me, and knew we were almost out.  A fleeting thought ran through my head- "you shouldn't be here..." but the glance of sunlight from above made me feel calm... and I climbed out and couldn't stop thinking about what it must have been like... fighting the war from this spot.  I almost felt suffocated in there and wondered how soldiers were able to live and sleep. But nothing put it into perspective until we were on the hill and actually "heard the war." Lee was unphased, after 4 deployments he has heard and see it all... but for me, to hear a mortar attack so close to wear I stood... it was surreal.

I didn't feel scared or unsafe... not even for a moment.  The protection of Israel makes me feel at peace.  But it did something else...it made me thankful. It put a lot into perspective for me.   I turned to look at our sweet girls, playing behind us, and reflected on that moment.  How lucky we were to be on our side of this border.  And how naive our sweet babies are to the world.  I am blessed to raise Ledoux as a child of the world, but will fight to protect her from the realities of this world as long as I can. And when the day comes that she asks me about it, we will talk.  We will experience.  We will learn.  We will not rely on the television to teach us.

After leaving the bunker

Syria

I asked our guide about the Syrian war, and how he remains so calm it.  As he put it, Israel doesn't have a dog in the fight right now.  They aren't fighting Israel.  The Shiites, the Sunnis (which also includes Isis), and the Government of Syria are all fighting each other.  Isis fights for religion, the government fights Isis, and so on.  I do not know near enough about the complexities surrounding the region to go into more detail, but can tell you its deep. And its a lot to take in. On the instances when a mortar from Syria makes it's way across to Israel (on accident), Israel retaliates, in true Israeli fashion, to make it clear they don't want to mess with their side of the border.

The Kibbutz

That night, we had dinner with the people of the Kibbutz. We drank wine while the children played.  And all I kept thinking was how ridiculously happy and blessed I feel to experience this life and have such amazing friends.   Its not easy... its not all rainbows and butterflies.  But it is life changing.  And eye opening.  And the experiences we are giving Ledoux, and ourselves, are only going to be for the better.  The next day, we visited a local winery and enjoyed each others company.  We laughed, we made memories, and we reflected on this incredible trip that started as a quick weekend getaway- and turned into something so much more.

Jerusalem + ALOT of pictures (beware!)

Hi Friends!  Checking in from Israel to share some pictures from our trip to Jerusalem!  All the Jerusalem photos can be seen by viewing the slideshow here

Overlooking the Wailing Wall and Dome of the Rock

We decided to kick off the Israel Holiday season with a trip to the Holy Land, only a 45 minute drive from our 'hood- and boy was it incredible.  Full disclaimer: I am not, and really have never been, a religious person.  I enjoy learning about religions, and appreciate them for what they are, but have never felt a "calling" like some people do.  The observations I share are from that point of view.

The Old City, from outside the walls

A map of the Old City of Jerusalem, only entered through 1 of 8 gates

                               
        I enjoy being a neutral observer, especially in a place like Israel where religion, government, and daily life intersect into one.  Religion out here is a way of life, and also part of the major conflicts in parts of the country.  When you travel to a place like Jerusalem, or even Israel as a a whole, it is fascinating that so many different people and religions stake claim to the same parts of land and holy sites. Clashes in Jerusalem are daily life- because each religious group believes they should "own" parts of it, which of course creates anger and frustration among other groups.  Take for example the well know Dome of the Rock, the iconic gold roofed mosque that is center to bitter disputes between Muslim and Jewish faiths.  The Jewish believe this was the place that Abraham offered his son Issac. The Muslim faith believes this was the point that Mohammed ascended to heaven.  To further complicate things, Christians took it during the Crusades and believed it to be the Temple of King Solomon, before it was returned to Islamic hands.  As you can imagine, this is one of many examples where multiple religions stake claim to the same holy sites.

Another view of the Western Wall and Dome of the Rock

There are all sorts of US travel warnings regarding Jerusalem, especially regarding the Old City.  I was well aware of all of this, but have also learned one important thing since moving here: take it with a grain of salt.  We went, we were amazed at the city, and only once felt a little uneasy. (More on that in a bit, its probably not what you think.)

We started our time in Jerusalem by entering through the Jaffa Gate, which gives you access to the Christian, Muslim, and Armenian quarters.  We walked through the Christian Quarter and then took back alley ways to arrive in the Muslim quarter.  People were friendly, happy, and in the shops they were all competing for your business.  It wasn't until we took some side roads in this quarter that I felt a bit uneasy (as I alluded to above)- but it wasn't because of adults staring us down or yelling.  There were no threats of personal safety.  It was the children.  Which was shocking and is almost hard for me to say- but the children made me most nervous.  They were aggressive- with each other and passerbyers. They stared at you as though they have been told you are an enemy. They followed us, and knew no physical boundaries.  One child wouldn't stop trying to force a ribbon on my wrist- touching me and in my face.  It wasn't violent, but it was uncomfortable.   He was trying to sell me a "bracelet" and the more I refused, the more he tried.  And the more angry he became. He was saying and shouting things in arabic- so Lee gave him 10 shekels so he would leave us alone, but he wanted more.  The children in this quarter, and this situation, was the only time I felt nervous in this amazing city.  You can't help but wonder what they have been told, taught, and what is expected of them.  It has had me thinking since we were there.  Is it culture? Is it religion? Is it both? Or none? There is no telling.

Church of the Holy Sepulchre

Entrance

After stopping for some shopping, we continued to the Church of Holy Sepulchre.  I was so naive- I had no idea the magnitude of the church I was about to enter, nor did I completely understand the vast importance.  Even without knowing all of that, when I entered the gates, I felt an undeniable energy. It was unlike anything I have felt- overwhelming emotion, gratitude, appreciation, and peace-which I didn't expect. Everywhere you looked there were people sobbing and praying, kneeling down and whispering prayers.  It is here that many religions mark the crucifixion and burial of Jesus.  Below are some pictures:

The inside, when you first enter

Above are pictures of the stone slab, said to be where Jesus was prepared for burial

Mosaic of the moments after Jesus is taken down and put into his tomb

Inside is the tomb of Jesus- the outside is being renovated

After this, we headed to the Western Wall, AKA the Wailing Wall, AKA the Kotel.  One of 4 walls that Herod the Great built, the wall has layers of historical importance.  Currently, it is dubbed the wailing wall (a name stemming from the middle ages) because they were lamenting the destruction of Herod's temple that was burned by the Romans. More recently, the wall was used to separate the jewish people (until 1967) but when the people were reunited and the division ended, the wall became a symbol of glory.  Now, many will worship at it- reading prayer that some times sounds like a "wail" and  rocking back and forth. Others leave prayers or notes in the rock walls. And some just observe, sitting in the chairs.   We knew this was a holy place, shoulders had to be covered, skin could not be shown, and women and men are separated.  Men worship at one part of the wall, and women go to another.  As Ledoux and I walked towards the wall, a woman came running towards me throwing scarfs at me- apparently too much of my chest was showing.  I had a jacket on, long sleeves, but a few inches beneath my neck were visible. I honestly thought I was good, but apparently not.  Note to self: when they say no skin, they literally mean wear a turtle neck.  Modesty has never been my jam anyway.  

Lots of security in this area

Finally, I leave you with a few other pics of the Old City, and hope that you can someday come visit.  Religious or not, it is incredible.  We already have plans to go back again- as one day is not enough time to properly see everything...it is an unbelievable city.  Truly a bucket list destination.