I have not been to Bethlehem but I have discovered you can sing carols any time you feel like it.
I was excited at the thought of travelling in Jordan. It was so close to the Holy Land. I knew I would see various Bible landmarks on this tour and for me they would be special. However, I was to get an unexpected bonus.
I had been to Petra the day before. Petra is enthralling, an amazing place. It was a very hot day, which added to the unreality and ancientness of the ground I was treading. Although many people thronged the main thoroughfare through the valley, they were easy to avoid. Crowds of people detract from the atmosphere and emotions of a 'Petra' experience. However, it was simple to take side paths and half-hidden steps that led to ancient remains and nooks, crannies with panoramic views.
For lunch, I found a shady spot off the beaten path. As I sat on a rocky ledge, I could fancy myself living in ancient times. Perhaps I almost dozed or day dreamed in the mid-day heat but I felt transported through a time tunnel of yester years. I wonder if I would have enjoyed living then?
Home comforts were so basic, and to us today, appear non-existent. It is not possible to take one little part of life out of the complete context but I found myself wondering if I would have survived. I guess I am used to modern life and the comforts and soft luxuries that go with it. However, that did not stop me day dreaming about the life and romance of ancient times.
One day I hope to go back to Petra. One day was not enough to explore and feel that wonderful place.
Today as we travelled north, we stopped at the Dead Sea for a swim. Anyone who travels near the Dead Sea must have a swim.
It was fun and a strange feeling to keep bobbing to the top of the water. We all enjoyed the break and there was plenty of laughter and jokes as we fooled around and read books in the sea. I did not expect the sea to be such a beautiful deep, greeny blue. It almost rivalled our Lake Tekapo.
Refreshed and invigorated by the swim and the laughter we travelled on.
Perhaps a word here about our bus, no, I am told I must call it a truck! George our driver likes to be called, a truck driver. A bus driver lowers his morale!
It is a very comfortable truck with most of the seats inward facing so that no one feels isolated. The best and unique part is 'the beach!' where we can climb up to a small platform above the driving cab and enjoy a 'fresh air' experience. If it rains or is cold, a canvas cover is closed. On hot days, we always have it open. It can be cold when moving but you can sit or kneel down behind the protective sides and still get all the fresh air you need. We do not generally stand when travelling but kneeling on soft padded cushions you can see the world go by.
It is fun when we pass through small towns, as we are a novelty to the people. Whatever their language they often wave or sing out, 'haa-loo,' or 'welcome.' We wave back and call to them and it makes us feel a part of their community. The children especially love to call out with smiles and sparkling eyes. Children are the same the world over, eager, and full of enthusiasm for the moment happenings.
On the sides of the truck, instead of windows, there are plastic screens that also wind up but we only do this if everyone agrees and it is very hot.
The highlight for me today, or so I thought, would be Mt Nebo. After the Dead Sea, there was a long winding road uphill to the top of Mt Nebo. To stand on the top of the Mount and look out over the same scene that Moses looked out over all those years ago would be mind-boggling.
Moses had been forty years wandering in the wilderness, those harsh, rugged, desolate, and sandy areas I had been passing through. It was a long time. There must have been times when Moses longed to see some green instead of brown. However, the wanderings were about to end. God led Moses to the top of Mt Nebo and let him look out across the Dead Sea to a place, although distant, looked green and prosperous. This was the land God had promised the Israelites – a land flowing with milk and honey, - in other words a fertile green and pleasant land. After the desert and the dust, it must have looked simply incredible and unbelievable to Moses.
Moses was not to enter that land but I do not think that bothered him. He had finished his task. He had led the Children of Israel through the wilderness, a challenge he had accepted from God. Standing on the top of Mt Nebo was the culmination of a remarkable journey.
In our truck, even with our free air-conditioning, it was hot and dry. There was a hot wind blowing and creating a thick dust screen over the countryside. At the top of Mt Nebo I stood where I should have been able to see the land of Israel but I could not see anything! I strained my eyes as I squinted and tried to see something through the haze and dust. All I could see was the faint outline of hills through the grey, foggy dust. It was difficult to imagine I was looking out to green and prosperous land.
I must admit I was a little disappointed. I had expected more. Not only that but a fresh busload of tourists erupted, all noise and chatter and jostling as they tried to hear their guide. He prattled on in a loud singsong voice, information that obviously did not have any special meaning to him. It was history and the Moses part probably a fictional tale to impress tourists.
There was no chance for me to feel any emotion. Disappointed was a mild word to express what I felt.
I took a photograph of the haze and reluctantly and sadly turned away to join the other members of our group in the truck.
We travelled on up and down hills and through a town and about an hour later arrived at the place where we were going to camp for the night. The wind was still blowing a dust haze but after consideration, Sue and George decided that we would still camp on the top of the hill rather than resort to a more sheltered valley.
It was almost dark and was to be my first night under canvas. I was the odd number out in the girls, if you can class me as a girl, so instead of joining someone else in a tent I had the privilege of a tent to myself. This was fine but after listening to instructions on the procedure to put up tents I was a little nervous. It looked simple but I have had experience of things that look simple but in practice turn out to have hidden snares.
George came over to help me. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. With his expertise, I would be saved from possible failure.
"I'll help you," he said", it won't take long, and it's very simple!"
I was not sure I like the stress he put on the word simple, implying that anybody could put up a tent so that failure on my part would label me as an idiot. The only trouble was getting the tent pegs to penetrate the stony rocky site. Once up the tent looked good, as neat as all the others in a row did. The test would come in the morning when I went to take it down by myself. Our tents were numbered and we keep the same one for the duration of the trip. If I did not fold it up correctly in the morning, it would make for more difficulties when I came to put it up the next time.
I had not taken much notice of our surroundings my concentration was completely absorbed in putting up my tent. By the time the tent was up it was dark. As I walked towards the truck, I realised that the air had cleared. Our camping site was on the flat stony top of a hill. The wind had died and I gazed down at a mass of twinkling lights below.
I stood still in amazement. Could they be what I thought? I almost stopped breathing.
"George", I called out in excitement, "what are all those lights down there?"
"Well," said George in a matter-or-fact voice, "that line of lights is the border. The next group of lights", pointing with his finger, "is Jericho, then further on the lights of Bethlehem. Over against the hill is Jerusalem."
I stood with my mouth open in utter unbelief. I do not think George realised the impact his simple explanation had on me.
"You mean," my voice coming out in a squeak, "that I am looking at the Holy cities. You mean I am looking down at Bethlehem?"
I had not realised that we would look down on Israel from out campsite.
To say I was stunned would be an understatement. I was bemused and incredulous. All of a sudden, Moses and Mt Nebo faded into insignificance.
I went over to the truck and joined the others for tea. The smell of an appetizing meal filled the air. Rice and a tasty meat stew thick with fresh veges, was more than welcome after our long day on the truck.
George had made a fire and the night was now still and warm. All was harmony as we sat around, swapping stories and jokes and shared laughter.
I was still in a daze. Was this real? Was I sitting by a burning log fire in the evening on the top of a hill above Bethlehem?
I excused myself early with the intent of going to bed. However, as I looked down on the twinkling lights below and the stars twinkling above in the clear moonlight sky I knew that sleep was impossible. I went back to my tent and grabbed my sleeping bag and went over to a spot away from our camp where wrapped in my bag I could sit and feast my eyes on the lights below and above.
Foremost to my mind came the carol 'Oh little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie, above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by.' I quietly sang it to myself almost overcome with emotion. This may have been the same hill that the shepherds watched their sheep.
I will never forget this night. No visit to Bethlehem will rival its place in my memory. Next Christmas when I sing the Christmas carol 'O little Town of Bethlehem,' I will be back sitting on the hill above the twinkling lights of Bethlehem.
Next morning I wondered if it had all been a dream. I wandered along the ridge and looked across at the hazy land on the other side of the Dead Sea. Then I met a donkey and her little foal. This was Bible land. It was almost like confirmation. I had been privileged. I had indeed experienced and been to Bethlehem.
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