It was November, I was awake, and the room was hot and stuffy. It was just after four in the morning, I should be asleep. I close my eyes, and begin to think. Forty-eight hours ago, I was at home, but already so much has happened that I’m feeling the excitement of a wonderful new adventure. I get out of bed, wrap myself in the fluffy bathrobe provided by the hotel, and venture out onto the small patio. My sister, and roommate for this trip is still asleep. Suddenly the silence of the still night, waiting impatiently for morning, is broken by a loud wail that fills the air and calls people from slumber. Well, not Cindy. I had closed the door and she is still sound asleep. The wail with the piercing shrill of a whirling fire siren, is the Islamic call to prayer. Welcome to Nazareth.
The unfamiliar sound was coming from a tower of sorts that was fairly close to the patio, and now, just after five, and a little praying on my own, I was watching daylight creep over the city, known as the home of Jesus. The night before, our bus had climbed the steep hill, making many switch back turns to deliver us to our lovely hotel on the very top of this city of cliffs.
Just before six, I woke Cindy and we started getting ready for the day ahead. I had figured out how to charge the camera battery last night, and so this morning, I figured this plug fits, lets use it. I forgot about the part with the low setting. I plugged in the curling iron and went into the bathroom as Cindy was coming out. Moments later I hear her screaming. “Wanda, come out here, I can’t this iron out of my hair.” When I stepped out she was holding a smoking curling iron with a roll of burnt hair on it.
Checking for damage, I found burnt hair but no burn on the scalp. Cindy wanted my scalp, but I wanted pictures. It seems we needed to add the converter for the curling iron. After propping the heavy little square box up with gum packs, it finally stayed in the socket and the curling iron still works. With a little cover up job and some hair spay we were off to see a re-enactment of what a Nazareth village looked like 2000 years ago.
This two-hour tour turned out to be one of our favorites of the trip. We learned the farming practices of the times of Jesus. Our guide was a young Arab Christian who had enthusiasm for the work he did.
He showed us the door that is referred to as the “eye of the needle” in the Bible. Sure would be hard for a camel to get through it. Next we watched a home maker spinning wool and some carpentry work.
Many of things we were shown, our guide related to the stories we knew from the Bible. I loved being in a place where the Bible is not just stories, it is history.
There were donkeys grinding at the mill and sheep in the sheepfold. The picture below shows the typical walls of the homes, connecting with each other. This village opened in 1984 and continues to add exhibits to make a living history site. Kind of reminded me of Gettysburg.
We listened as he told the teachings of Jesus in reference to everyday life in Nazareth, and we were amazed to see the true background for many of them. The wide and narrow gate, the wheat and the chaff, the shepherd and the fold, and letting the crippled man down into a room through a roof like this one. He explained that the thatch and beams were easily removed and easily replaced.
Next we went into a synagogue where a team member reads from a scroll.
I love pictures of crocks, and so I leave you to contemplate this blog with this picture of these old water or wine crocks, so useful, so long ago.
Next time, another city in this Holy Land.