Walking between the Past & Present

( Batire Village & Jerusalem)

This book is a collection of walking tours in some Palestinian cities (Batire and Jerusalem). I tried to link these tours by clarifying the nature of the cities between the past and the present, and how many elements and modern theories changed the features of the cities not only ostensibly But in a significant way may affect the nature of our understanding of the elements and the world in the cities, and all that I was able to observe through walking and contemplation.

Walking and Lines

Ingold guides us in his book “Lines a brief history” through a unique theoretical model that explores the interconnected and enmeshed lines of people and things. He argues things and people are the sum of interconnected lines; to study “things and people is to study the lines they are made of”[i] Inglod redirects us to the importance of practicing the creation of lines in a series of material practices. Where it shows that movement through landscapes, and stop in place are forms of individual biographies with landscapes.

During the tour of Bitire I meditated many of lines in the village, such as water lines, roots, chains and houses. These were for us material objects, but after the idea of Inglod, which focuses on the importance of human practice to create lines such as walking, since the lines can be made by human through the discovery of terrain and natural manifestations. However, things and people are group of interconnected lines, because people make many of lines we discover them through walking and meditating in the objects, and there is many of lines found in the nature not by human made, such as Tree roots and mountain ranges, and through walking in the space we can discover those landscapes and objects which have made the lines in the nature. Walk in the space starts by examining the nomadic background to settlement and seeing walking as an aesthetic tool. Walking as an autonomous form of art, a primary act in the symbolic transformation of the territory, an aesthetic instrument of knowledge, which is converted into an urban intervention, from minimalism to land art.

[i] Lines, A brief history, Tim Ingold, P.G 5

It was the purpose of crossing space to move to find food, hunting, and information required for survival, like nomadic who thoughts that the archetype for any journey was the development of wandering of hunting. Walking was a part of anti-art, but then the relationship between art and nature had changed, the nature itself had changed; it has seen many architectonics, so the contemporary land space produced its own space. The aim of the land space that it seen as architecture of open space.

Bitire characterizes by several lines, which is the mountain road lines that surrounded by hills planted with olive trees. It is distinguished by its topography, with the exception of the small sediment hidden between the hilltop, which is decorated with an ancient agricultural horticulture that was established for a sustainable agricultural system to preserve the soil from the stone walls. it also draws my attention and other  visitors to the old path or palaces built by the farmers for a longer time, But what really bothers and disturbs the green nature is the settlement and the negative environmental aspects, where the piles of burnt waste and other debris are scattered along some aspects of the route.

The train drew my attention, as I liked that in a village full of crops and landscapes there were human-made lines, the railway line. It made me connect with the importance of human practice in the manufacture of lines. It is one of the railway stations that pass through the city of Bitire. It was built by the Ottomans and connects Jaffa and Jerusalem, the first railway in Palestine and in the Arab world. The village of Bitire remains the first Palestinian village on the throne of tourism and beauty and the preservation of its ancient history, with a purity of originality and perfection in an attempt to preserve the agricultural land of settlement greed and attract attention.

The village is characterized by a rural landscape that combines houses and fields, in addition to its distinctive terrain and green mountains. The water is abundant in it. It has ancient archaeological sites such as an old train station and an iron railway. It has the clear springs that still bring life to the population, plantations, ponds and Roman canals that irrigate the traditional crops of vegetables such as cabbage and eggplant. The irrigation system is characterized by traditional irrigation methods that have been inherited for hundreds of years. These human practices are an important process for constructing lines, And objects through walking and meditating in the manifestations of nature, and the lines are a modern phenomenon that existed since ancient times, but an urban form can be found between objects and people as they are the sum of interconnected lines.

Walking in the city is a sort of language, which speaks about the city and takes part in creating it’s meaning. Many urban elements and new theories have added new meanings to the city, such as the theory of lines that we can see in every city. However, walking in old Jerusalem has its own meaning because the ancient elements are still express about the city with its modern and urban elements. So you can touch the existence of the past and present in the city itself.

In the old Jerusalem, with many years ago, the winter was very different, like Jasmine garlands, it went along with maze of the road, it was trapped in the gutters, filling some of ot on the rooftops, collapsing with snowy snow on hills of the Mukaber Mount. Is it reasonable to go out in this stormy weather? When the wind and the rain are united against human? I and my grandfather did as usual; we practiced our daily ritual, our tour in the old Jerusalem, the rains, snow, even the storms didn’t prevent us to practice our tour there, and had a cup of coffee from Al-Haj Ahmad Café, which his coffee had a special taste, sprinkled with the holy Jerusalem.

The market, despite of the rain, was crowded with people who come from the outskirts of the city to get their need. The market has no changed, a big woman looking for a place to sell a couple of young pigeons, a man standing on a vegetable cart and another one is selling the currency at Bab Khan al Zeet. The weather turned suddenly and the sky was thundering with anger. My grandfather and I rushed to the old bakery to get the fresh cakes, and back before the streets flooded again with rain and mud. In the winter, I feel that the city is less cruel, more compassionate and human, even the smell of the rain, it was sending to me messages of nostalgia and logging… Reminds, me of the past childhood … Ashes of things and the sons of neighbors in the alley… All these things feel me loneliness, frost, maze paved road, pain and patience.

My relationship with the old Jerusalem was not just a child’s relationship with his home, or just a routine that was repeated every day; no. It was like a relationship between the bees and a flower, it was my life, my breath, my story, and it was me. I have started my life in the old Jerusalem, my family and friends, my little home, in the alley, at Abu Saeed shop, with my grandfather I have stated my story, my everydayness. What makes me in love with this place is my grandfather, as he was the link between me and the old Jerusalem. In this place I left my memories, my colors, my winter, my childhood, and there, my grandfather left me.

Many years ago, my grandfather used to take me to buy our home’s needs, he was sitting me on his shoulders, so I was be able to touch the Jerusalem’s wall.  I remembered every stone in th wall, I was feeling that every stone has a different story, has a different hope. It was white and great, protecting us from the assaults and offensive; I remember that my grandfather was telling me “let your hands touch the Jerusalem’s wall, so the will get used to love the peace.” He also was asking me to fill my chest with Jerusalem’s air as much as I can, because I will miss its air.

When our tour in Jerusalem starts, it has no ended, because in every site we went deeply in its events, stories, memories, and history. I didn’t feel that Jerusalem was like any other place, it is a holy place with the greatest Mosque & Churches in it. In every rad and alley there is a story and history, there are memories, it was like a mother, which holds our secrets and hardships. My favorite story in the old Jerusalem is Jesus Christ, which takes place in a place called Via Delarosa (Figure 2), it is the way that Jesus walked from the door of the tribes, to the holy Sepulcher church, when the Jews tortured and crucified him. When I walk there I feel that I am living the events rights now, I feel in every torment of Jesus, I can touch that the stones, the walls and the grounds are crying of pain, over the torment of Jesus.

Jerusalem means the life for me. From it I learned that you should not fall down, you should stay strong, whatever the troubles and the hardships you faced, and you should not give up. Mu home Jerusalem, as an olive tree, steady and fixed, and its sons are strong do not tire of resistance, that’s what our Jerusalem taught us to be. Moreover, when I was sitting with my grandfather is one of the alleyways near the house; he was telling me how I’m lucky to have a house in this special place in old Jerusalem, and one day I will miss all of these emotions of happiness and optimistic, actually I didn’t believe him, because there is nothing will prevent me to be glad in Jerusalem, and practicing me everydayness routine there.’

I was woken up by the voice of the beards seller and the smell of Ahmad’s coffee. I was woken up by the sounds of birds; I believed that these birds are from the paradise. I was meeting every day a different faces of tourists, including whites, including blacks. There was a real and safe life in that time, there was a daily ritual I practiced it with my neighbor’s, when we return to our houses from school by the bus, we sing Jerusalem is Arab, while the driver Abdual Salam launches a siren, and our voices raise, if we pass near the Jewish neighborhood.

Often , I have a feeling of nausea when I was in front of Jewish neighborhood, I feel that I’m in a city full of contradictions, and I was surprised to stay in a strange neighbor does not look like me in a voice, or a face. Jerusalem in these days was permeated with the colors of the spectrum, and the heritage filled the small bars, in Jerusalem I hided my childhood stories and plays, it witnessed me growing up year over year, I concerned in Jerusalem as if it is a part of my body. The life in Jerusalem is like the camera, you focus on what’s important capture, the good times develop from the negatives, and if things do not work out, we take another shot.

My grandfather and I promised to stay together and he will still sitting me in his shoulders and keep going to our tours and running under the rain. Oh! We did not continue our tours in Jerusalem, grandfather; you still have a story about the history of old Jerusalem, you promised to tell me, grandfather I’m really missing Jerusalem’s air now, and my breath was polluted by the air of other cities. I thought that we still together under Jerusalem roof, but no longer, we had scattered. I do recognize now that it is not what we have in life, but who we have in our life that really matters.

For the first time, I have walked in Jerusalem after the death of my grandfather; I could not believe that it is the same Jerusalem, which I had lived with my grandfather there. It has no colors, everything is strange, even Ahmad Café; I could not believe that this was the most comfortable rattan seats turned into plastic seats that did not fit into the general décor, that kept me by heart, when my mother sent me to fetch some coffee.

Today, for me the Café is no more than a place to drink a cup of tea. I said to myself no longer a waste of time, and a departure from the truth that moved us to this city. The coffee has become a memory that travels us to the foot forty years before the occupation of Jerusalem, or even years before grandfather death. The white wall is turned to black one, which holds a bad news; it seems that if it misses one of his stones, it does not hold hopes now, it just holds sadness and pain.

Jerusalem is a place that witnesses my childhood and holds my memories, the security is hided from Jerusalem, there are no other interesting stories, and it is just about sadness. I saw Jerusalem despite of the whirlwind of injustice that envelope, the cold breeze was waving my face, and people of Jerusalem are coming, flocking from every corner, they stand steadfastly, waiting for the death on the threshold of honor, praising their lives for dignity, beating their roots in the holy land, proclaiming a symbolic rejection of all the verses of slow death, and my grandfather is one of them.

The End…