We board the buses which now take us deeper into Jerusalem. I am so turned around and there are no landmarks by which I can identify our location. All the buildings in Jerusalem are required by law to be faced with sandstone. I do not know the reason for this, but it makes all the buildings blend together in a way that one street very much looks like another and one place like the place you just left. We wind around the narrow streets until we can see part of the wall of Jerusalem. I have a little idea of where I am now.
We pull up to a long series of stairs (surprise!) that lead up to the wall of Jerusalem. We all disembark from our buses and begin the ascent of these stairs which lead us to "Jaffa Gate". I love the Jaffa Gate area.
It is a significant place in the history of Jerusalem. The main sea trade route from Joppa, which is how Jaffa is spelled in our Bibles, ended here. It is also where Dr. Marc Turnage believes Jesus was actually crucified on the cross. There is a number of reasons to believe this. First, Jaffa Gate was probably the busiest gate in Jerusalem traffic wise. The Romans wanting to make maximum impact with a public execution would choose a location like this. It is also close to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre where Dr. Turnage also believes the actual tomb of Jesus is (was) located. There are other reasons as well, but it is a fascinating idea. Once again, the Jaffa Gate we walk through is from much later times, the one Jesus walked through is many feet below us.
Jaffa Gate opens to the "Jewish Quarter" of Jerusalem. In the next couple of days this area will be one in which we will spend some time and get to feel like we "know" it a little bit. There is a bustling market, little restaurants a large open square and lots and lots of people walking back and forth. I don't know how they found them, but there are restrooms just inside the gate and up a very narrow set of stone stairs that turns a couple of corners. Two people across pretty much fills the stairway. Those going up and those going down the stairs have to do a dance as nobody seems to get the idea that those going up stay to their left and those going down stay to their left. It must be a foreign concept. The restrooms are not the best public restrooms I have ever been in. I don't think the people who clean them have been here yet this year. Once again, it appears that it never entered the minds of those who designed the restrooms to use angles and corners for privacy. There is too much openness for my comfort. Getting everybody in and out of the restrooms takes a lot of time.
I took my turn at the restrooms early so once I danced my way down the stairs I had a little time to look around. The buildings of course are faced with sandstone which is pockmarked up and down the street.
These are the reminders of the 6 day war that Israel fought for control of Jerusalem in 1967. The pockmarks are bullet holes. Right where we are standing was a battle front. Hard to imagine with all the people walking back and forth at the moment.
There is a wagon wheeled cart full of all kinds of bread, all kinds except bagels. I was hoping for a bagel but there are none to be found. There are a lot of people setting up speakers and music equipment in the square. As we walk around later we will see this kind of activity all over old Jerusalem, there is obviously some kind of music festival about to take place. It would be fun to hang around and take it in, but we have an agenda so off we go.
To say we take a circuitous route would be a huge understatement. We plunge into the Jewish quarter market which is crowded beyond belief. The space between the two sides of the market is maybe ten feet wide where people walk.
There are thousands of people some going uphill some going down. The wares of the merchants spill into the narrow street making the going even more narrow. Add to that, the occasional delivery person making deliveries by a push cart four feet wide, piled high with more wares and it is a crazy, crowded, loud, jostling plunge of culture that was exciting and fun.
In spite of the crowded conditions, we are trying to follow our guides through this market. We take what seems like a random right turn and then a random left turn. We go up stairs, we go down stairs. Some streets are covered, some are open to the air. It is a maze and I am lost beyond any sense of direction. We come to another covered section of street that is for the moment a little less madly busy somewhat off the main areas of travel. In the middle of this street are what look like two "wells" that are covered with plexiglass and lit by bulbs descending down about 20 feet.
What we are looking at through these two portals is what would be the actual street level that Jesus would have walked upon. There is nothing really to see other than the rock surface at the bottom.
Not far from here is a broad staircase that descends about the same distance down to a landing from which you can stare into the darkness at a stone "gate" with a round top indicating it is of pre-Roman construction. This also dates from the 1st century - from Jesus' time. The connection of being present at an actual place where Jesus could have been, likely could have been is significant. To see an actual surface that Jesus saw makes you feel a little like a time traveler.
In the same area was an exposed portion of Hezakiah's "broad wall" that still survives and would have been the wall of Jerusalem that Jesus would have seen.
Such antiquity is amazing on one hand and so business as usual on the other. Having been in Israel for seven days at this point and having seen so many amazing archaeological wonders, it is still a little overwhelming. We aren't done with the overwhelming part of the day as we come to the museum of the "burnt house".
So I have been a Harley Davidson owner for a little over a year. I wrote a blog about a year ago about my discoveries being an owner of a 1992 Harley Davidson Electra Glide Classic. I am still discovering the world of Harley Davidson.
I really lucked out with my Electra Glide. It was a reliable bike with a lot of great features (my favorite was the "bagger" aspect of the bike.) It didn't cost me a lot of money and I mustered up the courage to sell it this past summer. Actually it didn't take any courage at all, I spotted another Harley I decided I wanted really bad.
The '92 Electra Glide had some shortcomings which were not fatal as, had I not been able to sell it, I would still be happily riding it today. However, after riding for a year and pretty much coming up to speed as it were with what a touring bike is all about, I am a little more informed.
First short coming: Age. Well, it is a 1992 model and of this writing, that means the bike is 22 years old. One begins to wonder about reliability. Now the bike never gave me a bit of trouble, but you wonder if it could. The answer to that is always, yes. Of course it could. A brand-new bike could give you trouble. But if you are looking to build a case for an upgrade, you gotta start there.
Second shortcoming: Power. Yes, Tim Allen would approve, you gotta have more power. The '92 had an 80 CID motor. I discovered this is the smallest motor Harley Davidson put in a touring bike. I don't think they even make this motor anymore. I had always wondered why I had a hard time getting up to speed when getting on the road. I also had to carefully pick my opportunities to pass someone or to keep up with my friends with bigger motors.
Third shortcoming: Natural aspiration. The '92 had a carburetor which supplied the V-twin with the air fuel mixture. This isn't the worst thing, but newer, more modern bikes tend to have fuel injection. With fuel injection you tend to get a better throttle response and better gas mileage.
Other than that, the bike looked awesome and performed flawlessly. I was so happy to find someone who really wanted that bike! They didn't even quibble on my price! I got out of the Electra Glide everything I had put into it. It treated me really well.
So, what caught my eye and made me switch? I found a 2008 Harley Davidson Ultra Glide 105 year Anniversary Edition. Wow. Wow. Wow. What a great bike. At first, I wasn't crazy about the copper/black paint job on it, but it has grown on me and I like it quite a bit now. It stands out from other bikes on the road and with that paint job you know it's a 105 Anniversary bike.
Let me run down some of the cool upgrades on this thing.
First: It is 16 years newer than the '92. All of the internals are just that much newer than the Electra Glide. Better peace of mind for taking it on a long trip. I also benefit from 16 years of upgraded factory parts and technology from 1992.
Second: It is fuel injected. The throttle response is so much better. When you roll your wrist, the bike goes. I noticed this on my first test ride. Wow. I like it. I am also averaging about 6 more miles a gallon better than the '92. I tend to get 42 miles per gallon and have gotten as good as 44. Pretty cool.
Third: More power. The Ultra Glide has a 96 CID engine. That is an increase of 16 cubic inches over the Electra Glide. This is a double jump over the '92. Harley makes (or made) an 80, 88 and a 96 on their standard touring bikes. Most touring bikes have the 88. They also make a 103 and a 114 by special order. Can't imagine how good those would be. Anyway, the 96 is awesome. What is not to like with excellent power and better gas mileage? It is simply a great combination. The bike hardly notices when I have a passenger on the back.
Fourth: ABS brakes. Yes, modern ABS brakes front and rear. Unseen but totally cool. Better stopping power under all conditions.
Fifth: 6 Gears. Yes, count them, 6. I am still getting used to this. I often forget I have one more gear to use! I have ridden bikes with 4 gears, the '92 had 5 and now this Ultra Glide has 6. I had been wishing for a better gearbox on the '92. It seemed like there was never the right gear for anything. When I was going uphill, I felt like I was either winding the motor out or bogging it down. On long straightaways I felt like one more more shift would have been perfect. It was probably a combination of being underpowered with the 80 CID and a bike balanced out with another gear. Having 6 speeds in the gearbox allows for the first five gears to be spaced a little closer together so there isn't as great a difference between shifts and then when you are ready to cruise, drop it into sixth and the rpms drop to almost nothing but you are cruising at speed. This works exceptionally well with the increased engine displacement.
Sixth: Electronic cruise control. This upgrade is so good, it is probably my favorite. On a distance ride, hanging your hands out in front of you gripping the handlebars gets a little tough. Not only does your grip get tired, but the upper shoulders can tend to cramp up. The left hand is generally pretty free to let go of the handle bars and flex the fingers or just change positions. The right hand, not so much. You have got to grip the throttle, no time to let go or change positions. You've just got to tough it out. The cruise control solves this problem. Set it and relax your grip. So nice. The cruise control also helps with the mpg situation. Drop your gear box into 6th, set the cruise and away you go at a consistent speed.
Now for some of the nice to have but not necessary stuff. This Ultra Glide has little bells and whistles like custom HD fitted luggage liners for the saddle bags and trunk. Sure beats plastic grocery bags to hold my extra underwear and socks. The trunk also has a fitted felt liner which is also very nice. Kind of like having carpet in the trunk of your car. It also has "hard lowers" which keep the wind and rain off your legs. These are super nice. They are color matched to the rest of the bike and were it to get too hot, they have vents you can open to allow the wind to flow through and keep you cooler. I also have better gauging, with electronic fuel consumption computer and two trip meters. I have an on-board communication system which allows you to plug in and be able to talk with your passenger. The stereo system has AM, FM, CB, CD modes with four speakers, two front and two rear.
Finally, the previous owner took really great care of the bike, it doesn't have a scratch on it. A real plus is that he always took it to the dealer for maintenance which enabled me to have them print out all the records showing what has been done to the bike since new. When I bought it this past summer it had two new tires and a new battery, that's about a $1,000 right there. Throw in an official Harley Davidson 105 year anniversary dust cover for the garage and what more could you ask for?
I am thinking of planning a trip up and down the Alcan Highway next summer. That's high on my bucket list. I'm looking forward to it. Any joiners?
One of the things that you don't get much of on a tour like ours is free time. Cramming as much into the few days to see more than can be seen doesn't allow for it. However, today we get our first taste of free time. It comes at the right time after leaving Yad Vashem.
We board the buses again and head to what we are told is the oldest open air market in Jerusalem. I am excited and intrigued and hungry. I am hoping they sell something good to eat in this oldest market.
We park a little ways away from the actual market and we walk a couple of blocks to a very busy street. It's a little confusing as to where this market is as it doesn't look like a market at first. Everything does look "old", which is very relative in terms of the fact we have been looking a things thousands of years old. This is old in the sense of my lifetime. Probably older than me.
Wow, it is everything you want to experience in a open air market. Unusual sights, smells, noise, friendly merchants, exotic offerings of spice, tea, nuts, fruit and things I don't know what they are. Our spirits are lifted as we begin to make our way through the main aisle. There was a little fear of getting lost, but not to sweat, there isn't a lot of ways to get lost.
Indiana Jolie is at once energized by the cacophany of sights sounds and smells. She sees unique buying opportunities for gifts for friends and our kids. She plunges in and we find the merchants more than accommodating. "Would you like a taste? Oh, yes. This is the finest anywhere." Says the nice Jewish merchant wearing his head covering at a jaunty angle.
We as always don't have a lot of time and sometime during the foray into the market we are supposed to buy our own lunch. What to choose? Unusual bits and samples of this or that? I do buy some figs to hold me over until we decide what we want to eat. The guy I bought mine from was a little peeved that I didn't want to buy 10 pounds of figs from him. Only 6 figs? Roll of the eyes. Part of the problem is that there is no shop in this area of Jerusalem's oldest market at least that provides a ready made meal. If you want bread you can buy all you want, but if you want some meat on it, you have to go to one of the booths that sells meat. If you want some cheese, again, you can get all kinds of cheese but that is another booth. I don't want to insult any of these merchants again by asking for a slice of bread or a slice of cheese. You get the idea they want you buy in Costco size quantities.
We walk the length of the indoor market and decide to venture out to the outdoor where there are many more people and other things to see. This might be some sort of special day as there seems to be a parade of people marching down the main aisle of the outdoor market. They are shouting or chanting in Hebrew and their signs are also in Hebrew so I never get a sense of what they are celebrating or protesting.
We join friends at a little outdoor restaurant. They tell us that it as one of the recommended places to eat here. That's fine with us. What do they offer? Fish and chips. We stand at the counter and place our order. Since our friends arrived earlier than we did, their order comes out first. It looks pretty good.
You know how it is when you are hungry and the people you are with get their food first? You convince yourself you are starving. It seems to take a long time to get our food and our friends are soon finishing theirs. One of them cannot eat all the "chips" in their basket and they leave them to be collected by the clean up person who is also the guy making the food. He picks up their basket and notes that one of the baskets still has the chips in it. He shrugs, turns to the place where they dump the fries out of the deep fryer and tosses the uneaten chips in with the others right out of the used basket. We are stunned. Recycling french fries? We look at each other. We laugh. Alot. We wonder aloud how many "recycled" chips they have eaten from someone else's basket. I suppose it is not a wasteful practice, but probably not a good public health practice. The American DEC would not approve. One of our friends is a real germaphobe and he looks visibly ill.
Our baskets of fish and chips arrives. I am in a dilemma, I am starving and probably close to the point of death from starvation. I could refuse to eat my lunch and die or eat it and die. I decide it is better to die with a full stomach. I'm not afraid of death, I just don't want it to hurt. I pray diligently over my meal invoking the gospel of Mark 16. 17:
And these signs will follow those who believe: In My name they will cast out demons; they will speak with new tongues; 18 they will take up serpents; and if they drink [or eat] anything deadly, it will by no means hurt them; they will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover.”
I eat my whole lunch and feel no ill effects. In fact, I feel great.
We depart our lunch experience making our way back to the main street that we arrived on seeking any interesting wares offered for sale. I stop in a little T-shirt shop a buy a bootleg Israel Harley Davidson T for $10. Ha ha! You don't get HD T-shirts in the states for ten bucks! I sport my find at dinner that night. Many nods of approval. Much jealousy. I feel special. Eventually the joke is on me as when we get home and wash the Israel HD T-shirt, it becomes the size of a postage stamp. At first I couldn't find it but there it was in the lint trap. There's always a catch. Maybe my granddaughter, Violet will be able to wear it. We are soon encouraged to get to our buses, we have a busy afternoon, something about "The Burnt House". I suppose it will make sense to me when we get there.
I confess that I have already had a full day. Temple mount, Pool of Siloam, City of David, Stars and Bucks, Church of the Nativity and the gift shop, hawkers and stairs is more than I could ask for one day's tour. The total amount of stairs and walking all of these represent is not to be reckoned with lightly. We have more to see and I am thinking that if it is another gift shop, I'll just stay on the bus.
After what seems like a rather short drive, we pull up to another more quiet location in Bethlehem, still in the city but where you can look out to more uninhabited areas in the Judean wilderness. There is a large park and it is very nice. You can look out over some valleys with furrowed slopes from sheep grazing from the same footpaths over the centuries from here. There are paths through this park and a large center that is paved and has some very nice planted flowers. We are led to what looks like a cave and asked to go in and find a place to sit.
It is low (everything is low in antiquity) and the ceiling is black with centuries of soot. There is a chiseled stone bench around the circumference of the cave which is where I head to bent over double or risk getting sooty from rubbing up against the ceiling. The rest of the cave has folding chairs. It all fills up quickly.
We sing in this low cave which provides outstanding acoustics for our acapella worship. The passages from Luke's gospel the second chapter and verses eight through fifteen are read. Looking out the opening of the cave (which no doubt has served as a sheep pen over the centuries) onto the hillside before us and thinking this is where that passage of scripture took place is again amazing in connecting the scriptures to reality in my understanding. It is a powerful moment.
We move to a new location outside and learn that this area is called "The Shepherds Field".
This is where the angels announced to the shepherds the birth of Jesus. This is very interesting. First, I had no idea that the location of this announcement was known, I assumed that it was a location that was unknowable but in the general areas around Bethlehem. Apparently it has been identified as this particular location. It seems likely enough, sheep still graze here on this rather steep hillside just on the outskirts of Bethlehem. Second, I am surprised how close this location is to the Church of the Nativity. In my mind I kind of saw the shepherds having to walk a long ways to Bethlehem to find the "babe wrapped in swaddling clothes." As I remember, it might be less than an hour's walk back to the church of the Nativity.
We are once again told that we only have a few minutes before we must be on the bus and off to our next destination. Really? We have more to see? As we begin our way back we pass some fascinating archaeological features which almost casually we are told is the place where Boaz would have ground his gain. There is no time to stop and take this information in. This is really the field of Boaz? Yes. These are his grinding mills and yes, they date back to his time.
I am stunned. Why are we not stopping and talking more about this? I snap a few quick pictures as I am pulled away to board a bus. I almost can't stand it. I want to think. This is where Ruth found favor with Boaz? This is the place that was close to the house of Naomi when she returned from Moab? The field of Boaz was the same field of the shepherds? I have so many thoughts and so many questions but there is no time. I would have so rather spent the gift shop time here than at the gift shop. On we must go.
We board the buses. Our attention is drawn to the two mountains in the distance. The one on the right is called "The Herodium".
Herod was not only a very evil and ruthless ruler, but he was also very powerful and feared. And rich. And an egomaniac. And a narcissist. Pretty much all the evil adjectives of a bad person who is in power apply to Herod. We were told things about his debauchery that are not fit to print. ANYWAY, he was concerned that when he died that no one would build a fitting monument to him since he was so disliked (he apparently knew of his unpopularity). So, he decided that he would have a mountain built as his tomb. Yes, an existing mountain would not do, he would have one built to his satisfaction. So the mountain on the left was used as the building material for the Herodium. if you "google" "Herodium" you will get some great pictures.
So, with thousands of slaves and many years, Herod's tomb was constructed. He was actually buried there as a recent archaeological discovery has confirmed. For many years this was in doubt. Cut and paste this link to your browser for a great article on the Herodium:
article: http://science.nationalgeographic.com/science/archaeology/herods-tomb/
Unfortunately, the main archaeologist on the Herodium was recently showing a university class some of the recent diggings and fell through a scaffolding and died of his injuries.
We drive up on the Herodium but since it is late in the day we do not even get out of the buses. There wasn't much to see in the parking lot except for back views of Bethlehem and more of the Judean wilderness.
Dr. Wave Nunally talked on the idea that Jesus may have been referring to the Herodium when He taught on even a small amount of faith being able to "cast mountains into the sea" as a sort of object lesson.
The whine of the diesel engines increase as we head down the Herodium. We are headed back to our hotels now. I was glad that the end of the day with the Shepherd's Field and Boaz's Field sort of redeemed our time in my mind of this short trip into Bethlehem, but I again don't much care for the Palestinian areas of Israel. Back through the infamous "wall" separating Jewish controlled Israel from Palestinian controlled Israel and it is not long before we are pulling in to our tiny bus parking lot at the Jerusalem Ramada.
Indiana Jolie and I soon head down to our dining area. We are joined by our Superintendent and his wife and not long after our General Superintendent and his wife. I chuckle to myself about having dinner with our General Superintendent. He is a busy and important person but on holiday like us and apparently gets hungry too. We have a very nice time visiting around the dinner table.
It has been a long and somewhat physically demanding day. I take a nice hot shower, make some notes in my journal and turn in for the night. Tomorrow will be interesting in an entirely different way.
We get up a little later of this seventh morning of our Israel tour for which I am grateful after a long day the day before. We do the usual breakfast drill which now consists of the granola-like topping I found on the salad buffet, milk and whatever else catches my eye. I don't need any more Nescafe.
We board the buses and are told we are heading to Yad Vashem. I don't speak Hebrew so I have no idea what this means. I am told it is the Israeli Holocaust Museum. They have worked very hard to document and preserve the history of the darkest chapter of Israel's history in modern times. The world war two era is of special interest to me, but I usually see it from the battle and machines of war perspective. I am no stranger to the holocaust in terms of knowing what it is about and the murderous hatred that was foisted upon the Jews, but I have never seen anything about it up close.
As if we are all anticipating what is ahead, the bus is much quieter than usual. There isn't a lot of happy chatter that characterizes our trips back and forth. Yad Vashem is in the heart of Jerusalem. It is not a long trip from our hotel and we are soon descending the stairs on the bus and walking on the long and expansive courtyards that surround the building.
The architects certainly nailed the interpretation of their building design to evoke a sort of solemness.
It is modern, spare and leads one to observe more than amuse oneself. In the courtyards are trees planted either by holocaust survivors or in their memory. I see one that is planted by Corrie Ten Boom, Oskar Schindler and others that I recognize by name.
There are larger than life sculptures that depict the struggle of the Jewish people through time. They give off a melancholy emotion with the distressed faces and postures.
We are to take a guided tour of Yad Vashem. We are issued listening devices in addition to our little blue boxes that our tour has issued us. As several tours take place simultaneously and it would be very hard to hear your guide apart from all the others.
The inside of the museum is more of the same, bare concrete, thick plate glass, and the same spare sort of design. We meet our guide who speaks very good English and was educated in the US. As we enter the exhibits we are told that what we see are not recreations, but very painstaking reconstructions of the actual buildings, railroad segments, cobblestone streets, etc. We see an actual reconstruction of a part of the Warsaw Ghetto, brick street, steps, building front. There is the actual rail line abutment where the end of the rail road ended inside Auschwitz which was the end of hope for many Jews. There were actual truck chassis on which the bodies of dead Jews were placed and rolled to mass cremations. We walked over sections of the floor where revealed by glass panels thousands of shoes worn by the victims of the concentration camps.
The layout of the exhibits are designed to show the progression of the kind of brainwashing through propaganda. The large posters showing absurd caricatures of Jewish people with hawkish and frightening features or bold type denouncing the evils of the Jewish race. Some cartoonish drawings show Jews eating children with evil delight and other offensive and revolting depictions. There were the actual lists of Jews from Oskar Schindler's "Schindler's List".
As the guided tour progresses I notice that we are not going to see everything in the museum. I leave the group still tied by my listening device to our guide but wander freelance to see as much as I can see. I observe a beautiful dining room table that doubled as a hiding place for a Jewish refugee with a hollow underside. There were small collections of personal effects, a journal, a comb, glasses, a few wrinkled sepia tone pictures of what must have been loved ones.
Other collections included simple toys, drawings of concentration camp buildings, a handkerchief, a small book, a bicycle.
I wonder what I would try to take with me if forced to leave all I knew behind that wouldn't catch someone's notice. I can't think of anything. Then there are stories of survival. Hiding in latrines, hiding in attics and behind false walls. Families split apart, indignities, vulgarities, unspeakable wrongs.
Near the end of the museum are actual crematory ovens, scale models that show the process of Jews being unloaded from cattle cars, entering a building where they are disrobed, men, women and children all together, entering gas chambers with the previous bodies being hauled out the other side on carts as more naked Jews wait to enter their doom. I feel crushed by the cruelty of it all and wonder how such a thing could ever happen in civil societies.
When I am just about to my limit of absorbing the abominations of man's hatred, we move to another museum inside of the museum. It is the Hall of Remembrance. It is a round room maybe 60 feet across with rows and rows of shelves that go ever higher and higher that contain file boxes of individual stories of holocaust victims and survivors. There are portraits of individuals, families, people who once lived and are now gone. Inside each box is as much information about each individual as can be found, names, birthplace, occupations, connections. It is an on-going work to keep adding information when it comes to light. Some is sent from other nations when a holocaust survivor dies and their heirs discover hoarded information or artifacts.
I recently ran across an article about this very part of the museum. If you click on or cut and paste this http to your browser, you can bring up a great article about this very work:
http://www.foxnews.com/world/2014/09/14/holocaust-experts-work-to-preserve-wwii-era-items/?intcmp=latestnews
We pass out of the main building of Yad Vashem and to the Children's Hall. This is quite different. It is dark with only small lights that are prismatically reflected over and over so there are hundreds of small lights seeming to float in the dark. In the darkness the names of over 2,000 children are spoken as you walk along the path. The impact is great and I think of the millions of aborted children our own country throws away never named, never remembered. God forgive us for our own holocaust.
We emerge from the darkness into the brilliance of mid day. I am deeply absorbed in thought and emotion which contrasts so greatly with the beauty of the grounds and the sunlight. It reminds me of when my wife and I went to see "The Passion of the Christ" in the theater. At the end there was not a sound from the audience that packed the room. We all filed out and at least in our car hardly a word said as the impact of what we had experienced was too overwhelming for casual conversation. As was the case with most of the places we had toured, there was not enough time to see it all. Again, I could have spent the entire day at Yad Vashem.
Our tour guides planned our day well. As it was nearing lunch time, they had something special planned that would not trivialize what we had just experienced but it would lift our spirits in a really positive way.
