Israeli Spiders... or Mosquitos... and the Western Wall

I'm not sure what it was, but Israeli spiders (or mosquitos) are viscious bastards. I have bites on the knuckles of some of my fingers and ankles. These bites itch and sting worse than anything of experienced in the US! Anyways, I woke up with them after my first night at our glamorous Petra Hostel. Having slept in much later than I should have, I set out to get something to eat around 11 AM. I ate a shawarma sadwhich at a nearby Lebanese cafe by the Citadel next to the Old City's Jaffa gate (in other words 15 feet from the door to our hostel). All the food I bought cost about 30 US dollars. This was not Jordan where I can eat a big lamb and rice platter for 3 US dollars.
Once I finished lunch, I headed down into the the streets of Jerusalem's Old City. These streets were unlike anything I had ever seen before. No cars could pass through them. A lawnmower could not even pass through them. Ocassionally a biker (as in "ding ding I'm Lance Armstrong kind of bike) would ride past us and it would be a tight squeeze between the souqs, walkers, and biker. Wallah (I swear), these streets never exceeded 12 feet in width at their widest points. This was the old City so I assume the layout of these streets hasn't changed much since the Middle Ages. Walking down these streets I felt as though I was inside a big building because the buildings often have balconies or canopies that cover the streets which makes them always shaded.
From what I saw and from what I've read, Jerusalem has always been a place of pilgrimage or religious tourism for thousands of years. All of the Souqs, or shops, were filled with Christian or Jewish religious stuff. Yarmulkes, manorahs, candles, crosses, icons, holy oil, holy water, holy dirt from Jerusalem, incense, and just about everything you can imagine. In addition to religious things, the souqs sold Arab crafts like decorative boxes, water pipes, jewlery, tin ware, and tin and silver coffee and tea sets.
The whole Jerusalem shopping culture was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. As I walked passed these souqs, the shopkeepers would shout to me in English "excuse me, come take a look at this" or "excuse, your mother might like a nice set of earings from the Middle East" or "excuse me, can you help me with this" or "excuse me, come take a look at this (state whatever the hell they wanted to sell you)". The first time I went into one of these souqs, I showed interest in buying a kippa (yarmulke) so I could go up to the Western Wall, the most sacred site for Jews. He began pulling out other things that I wasn't really interesting in buying and insited that I buy them so I could help him pull money out of his cash register (it didn't make sense) and he repeatedly told me he was giving me a deal on things. I bought the kippa and keppt walking down the street. After about 15 minutes walking down this same street I began to notice I was in a Muslim area since Islamic grafitti began to appear on the buildings. A group of boys sitting on the street (again, the word street is a stretch, these streets are less wide than a track and field track) asked me if I was Muslim and told me that unless I was Muslim I would not be allowed to go any further down the street because the entrance to the Al Aqsa Mosque was just a couple of yards down. I put my hand up assuring them everything was cool and kept on walking. They were right. 40 seconds later I walked into a security barrier and one of the security guards asked me to recite the Fatiha (The First 7 verses of the Qur'an and the equivalence of the Lord's Prayer in Islam) I smiled and turned around to go back. No Al Aqsa for me that day. I was very dissapointed because despite not being a Muslim I would love to see one of the Holiest sites in Islam just for the sake of saying I'd been there. I turned around and ran into the same group of boys that had been sitting by the street. In Arabic I asked them where I could find "the place where the Jews pray", the Wailing Wall. Within three minutes, I was at another security ceckpoint overlooking the Wailing (Western Wall). I waited about 10 minutes to get to this glass inspection room where Ethiopian Israeli security guard rumuged through my bags looking for nasty bombs and guns then metal detected me for more nasty things. No nasty things. I went through ans walked down 30 feet worth of stairs looking googly eyed at this mass of people praying before Judaism's ground Zero; where to Jew G-d'd Spirit dwells. The first 50 feet in front of the Western Wall is the area of worship. Before entering this sacred place I popped on my newly bought kippa (I looked like a Jewish dude at this point) and spoke with the nearest Israeli about proper behavior near the wall. "Am I wearing appropriate clothing? Am I supposed to read from the Book of Psalms? Is there anything I can't do". He just told me to wear the kippa since everyone's head is supposed to be covered before the wailing wall and to place a note with a written prayer request into the cracks of the wall. I told this Israeli that I was a gentile but wanted to show reverence here in this place. This Israeli smiled and told me that this a Holy Place for all. I quickly scribbled three things that mean a lot to me on a notecard and went on my way to the Wailing Wall.
When I approached the Western Wall there were easily 500 men before the wall (prayer sections are segregated for women and men). I slowly crept up to the wall slightly nervous and popped open an Arabic-English Bible and thumbed to a random Psalm. I read a few lines and realized I was not in a mood to read that one. I flipped to another Psalm. That one didn't work either so I closed the Bible and placed it back into my tearing backpack. Ahhh! The note to G-d! I pulled the now crumpled notecard from my pocket and looked for some place to put it. The previous prayers were good economizers of space. Every crevice of the wall was crammed with prayer requests. As the fully clothed in black frock, hat, and curls Chasidic Jew next to me bobbed his head up and down I scowered about 10 feet worth of wall for a crack to tuck my card in. Finding it, I placed the card in and made a quick and covert sign of the cross and prayed for only a few seconds till my mind began to wonder... S#@t! this is incredible! I'm standing where a community of people believe the Spirit of G-d dwells..." After slowly walking away from the face of the wall, I found some Americans guys from a church group to take a picture of me to prove I was here. I wodered around and walked into a synogogue that was through a door left of the Western Wall. I just walked through and soaked in the electric religious air. To my right were Jewish men of all kinds. Men wearing Tees and Jeans to Chasidic clothing draped with the White Jewish prayer shawls, Israeli soldiers with an M-16 draped over their left shoulder, young boys who were probably eight or nine to old men who were confined to wheel chairs. To my left there were shelves of Jewish prayer books in Hebrew and in other languages.I recognized some of the English titles, the Talmud and the Tana'im among others. With all the books and reading white bearded men I felt as though I was in a reverant library.
Having my fill of the Wailing Wall for the hour (I visited the Wailing Wall three times), I decided to go walk around and explore some more. (Since I had slept in, I was walking around alone because the girls I was traveling with had gotten up earlier and had gone to explor Jerusalem on their own). I walked out another way and exited the walls the mark the boundary of the Old City.