Berkley Center

Jerusalem is a city like none other in the world. The holiest city for Jews, third holiest place for Muslims, and an ancient site for Christian pilgrims, it is no wonder that humans have been fighting over it since the time of the Crusades. Today, it presents an interesting example of three major religious groups that can coexist in peace, even when surrounded by the ongoing Palestinian-Israeli conflict.

The group I traveled to Jerusalem with was an interesting mix: me, my Somalian Muslim roommate, and three of our Jewish friends. We took the bus from Cairo to the border, passed through to Israel, and then another bus ride to Jerusalem. Unfortunately, at the border my roommate and I had to encounter one of the reasons many Muslims find traveling to Israel difficult: the religious profiling in the border. Both of us were singled out almost immediately as Muslims and had to go through a security check that kept us in for a few hours. Fortunately, there were no complications; after a wait we were allowed through, and the real adventure began.

The first night we spent at with one of our friends and his uncle, a rabbi who had immigrated to Israel from the United States. He told us a lot about the ancient monuments of Jerusalem, including the Dome of the Rock. As we learned, one of the main reasons for the tight security around the mosque was what many Jews believe lies beneath it: old scriptures that would be invaluable if they actually exist. Muslim leaders, afraid that someone will be willing to sacrifice the mosque for what lies beneath, take all necessary measures to protect the precious building.

The next day, we finally ventured into the Old City itself. The Old City is a walled section, what was once all of Jerusalem before it expanded into the surrounding regions. It is divided into four sections, or “quarters”: Muslim, Jewish, Christian, and Armenian. Every religious group that has a reason to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem is thus guaranteed a little safe haven were they are surrounded by those of equal spiritual values. We spent the day wandering around the entire “city”. What amazed me the most was that no one displayed any hard feelings towards the inhabitants of the other quarters. They all interacted and developed friendships with people of opposing beliefs, while in other parts of the world they might have been sworn enemies. The first night, an Armenian Orthodox juice seller gave me a 50 percent discount on my pomegranate juice and introduced us to his Egyptian Muslim friend, who offered to take us on a tour of Jerusalem in his car if we ever wanted it. Of course, most of it was because the better they got along, the more tourists they could seduce and the more money they could make. Nevertheless, seeing all this gave me hope that perhaps one day, religious conflict would finally be brought to an end.

The next morning was beginning of the most important reason for our visit: a pilgrimage to the Dome of the Rock itself. My roommate, worried I would have problems getting in since I didn’'t look like a typical Muslim, made sure I was properly dressed and knew the first verse of the Qur'an by heart before we headed out. Sure enough, I was stopped at every checkpoint, four times, and asked to recite the Qur'an before being let in. It made the final experience even more moving. Standing inside, looking at the rock itself, I thought of all that people had gone through simply to gaze upon the miraculous stone. I had gone through eight hours of bus rides, a three-hour border check, and four Qur'an recitation checks. Long ago, people had probably spent weeks trudging through the desert for the same experience.

Elated, my roommate and I headed for the exit together. Unfortunately, our newfound spirituality was not to last: right at the exit, an excited American guy ran up to me, demanding the secret to getting in: "“Can I just bribe the guy at the entrance?"” I told him he would have to either memorize a few verses or actually convert to have a chance. Confused, he asked if I was actually Muslim. Upon hearing the affirmative, he trudged off, realizing that he was not going to get inside the Dome of the Rock that day. To me, he represented the true Jerusalem: true spirituality, tainted with tourism and materialism, but powerfully moving nonetheless.