When Robbie Robertson of the Band wrote my titular line, he was referring to Nazareth, Pennsylvania, and Levon Helm, the man who sang it, has sadly only recently become all the way past dead. But, it was fitting that I should arrive in the original Nazareth just needing a place where I could lay my head. After French mass, I spent my last night in Jerusalem with some new friends I met at Ecce Homo, Niels from the Netherlands, Gabriel from Peru, Leslie from the UK, and Estelle from the tiny island nation of Mauritius. Estelle, a volunteer at the Convent, grabbed a guitar from the community room, and I played while we all had a rooftop sing-a-long. At one point we were all singing Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" (made popular by Jeff Buckley, and later, Shrek) and it felt so amazing to sit strumming that song with an amazing view of Jerusalem that chills went down my spine. It made for a late night, but having inside info from Estelle about the absence of housekeepers on Sunday, I was able to sleep in and make a late checkout. Leaving my bags at the Convent we went on the Ramparts’ Walk, a touristy stroll along the walled perimeter of the Old City. It was a good end to my first three days in Israel, and that afternoon I caught an Israeli Egged bus to Nazareth.
The town where Jesus grew up is today a unique city. Nazareth is 70% Muslim, and 30% Christian (most of them Arab). Strangely, the Jewish population lives in nearby Nazareth Illit, located high on a promontory above the town. From what I understand, less than a decade ago, Nazareth was not a place you’d want to overnight in…rife with junkies and crime. But, a young Jewish man named Moaz changed all that. He saw promise in the hometown of Mary and Joseph, and worked to develop the Jesus Trail, a hiking/camping path leading to the Sea of Galilee following the ministry of Christ. He also ambitiously befriended Muslim families in the community, and managed to successfully turn an old mansion into the Fauzi Azar Inn, which was where I could finally “lay my head” in a dormitory bed.
With a population of only around 60,000, Nazareth is not a very exciting city, and still not a place where folks typically spend the night. This is a pity, however, because Nazareth’s reputation is growing by the minute, especially as a culinary capital. Some of the best food I had in Israel was in Nazareth. For dinner on the night of my arrival, I went out with a fellow dorm-mate named Tirian, currently training as a lawyer in Ireland. At an Arab Christian restaurant called Tishreen, I had Araes. Picture this…the most delectable lamb kebab you’ve ever tasted, wrapped in cheese, then baked into a filo dough pastry…so delicious it was stupid. For lunch the following day, I went to a new restaurant that was formerly a boxing gym, and had Arabic sausages rolled into a pita, with a Tabouleh salad, washed down with Araq, a potent, anise-flavored liquor. If you ever happen to be in Israel whist dieting, do yourself a favor and stay away from Nazareth.
When I got to Fauzi Azar, I was informed of a morning tour around town available to guests. More importantly, I was informed that said tour was free. So, I made sure to wake up early enough to take advantage of it. Along with two British blokes and a friendly Brazilian Hospital Administrator named Asimar (whom I would later hang out with in Jordan, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it) I was led around Nazareth by an American guide named Linda. Linda arrived in Nazareth years ago as a vagabond backpacker, and fell in love with the town. Moaz hired her to work at the Fauzi Azar, and asked her to take over the city tour after the original guide left. Having Linda as a guide (who’s been in Nazareth long enough to get to know everybody) was a real treat, especially because as a California orphan, she harbors no bias toward Israeli or Palestinian causes. The cool thing about the tour is that we avoided all of the religious landmarks, and focused only on the day to day life of modern Nazareth. We went through the Souk (market) tasting complimentary produce, from green plums to grape leaves, stopped at a confectionery and tried Helvah, a sesame-based sweet, went to a spice mill that still utilizes 150 year-old steam-driven equipment, and met that most symbolic tradesman, the Nazarene carpenter. While the tour took longer than I expected (and therefore left me pressed for time) we were never pressured to buy or give any money, and that made for a spectacular experience.
Knowing my bus to the Sea of Galilee was arriving shortly, I had to kick it into high gear and get a move on. First, I stopped by the Basilica of the Annunciation, a giant church dedicated to the spot where the Virgin Mary was notified of her role in the Immaculate Conception by the Archangel Gabriel. While it was pleasant, the church itself is rather new (built in the 1960’s) so it didn’t do much for me in term of historic interest. Far better was the Church of St. Joseph nearby, which actually contains 1st Century ruins of a homestead thought to belong to stepfather of the Prince of Peace and His revered mother.
After that, I only had a few minutes to visit a place that the Sisters of St. Mary of Zion-Communite de Chemin Neuf (the Order that runs the Ecce Homo Convent in Jerusalem where I stayed) told me to stop by before I left Nazareth. At the beginning of 2012, they opened an International Interpretive Center on the Virgin Mary, right across from the Basilica of the Annunciation. When I got there, I saw a sign on the door that notified me of their new business hours. Disappointed, I reckoned I wouldn’t have time to see the Center before my bus arrived. But then, an Arab gentleman started talking with me through the locked gate. I told him I’d been sent by the Sisters in Jerusalem. He said, “One minute.” Then, he opened the gate for me, and I was greeted by a Sister who took me on a VIP tour of the fancy new complex. Alone in the theaters for my own private screenings, I saw the different presentations they’d prepared on the Virgin Mary, including ones about her role in Jewish and Islamic culture (Keep in mind, Mary was Jewish, and she is cited often in the Holy Qu’ran as an example all Muslim women should emulate). The purpose of the interpretive center is to promote peace between the three great Middle Eastern religions using Mother Mary as an example, and I definitely don’t see anything wrong with that.
Expressing my gratitude to the nuns who gave me a personal tour, I made a 50 shekel ($13) donation to the Order and rushed out to catch my bus to Tiberias, along the shores of Lake Kinneret, also known as the Sea of Galiliee.
