ISRAELI ADVENTURE - Jonathan Brooks

Israel is a unique country, torn apart by war and politics. Most people turn away from you when they see a camera, and it’s surprising how often they see you before you see them. I was told that photographers working for the government sometime take photographs of people for many reasons, I could be seen as one of those and therefore, not liked.

It was not, as I thought, as though these people thought I was "taking" something from them, like their soul, they are now far too educated to believe this, I think. This could explain why time after time I tried to photograph shepherds in the countryside and was chased away by them wielding sticks and shouting things I couldn't understand. Being on my own I was in no position to try to reason with these people. J Brooks

Around the country there are many roadblocks, several hundred metres of concrete blocks making zigzags in the road, policed by armed soldiers. Although at the time I was there it was generally peaceful, you cannot escape the trappings of a country that is ready to go to war at any time. When you fly into Tel Aviv airport there are military aircraft lined up on the runway with support aircraft from the UN. Imagine flying into Heathrow and seeing all this activity, you would soon become uneasy, yet they live with these distractions and now far worse atrocities day in day out.

Conscription is in operation within Israel. Young men and women very often have to break their studies from school or university to take up military service. It is not unusual to be driving along on a Friday or Monday and see hundreds of army personnel waiting at bus stops, or standing at the side of the roads hitching a lift home for the weekend, all are carrying huge backpacks and firearms. One can only presume that they carry live ammunition, these are not games that they play. Often I would come down to breakfast in some guesthouse or hotel and have to step over firearms left all over the floor. They seem to take them everywhere and one just takes them for granted after a while.

Another strange feature is having huge ditches dug on both sides of many roads, some three to four metres deep; they can run for hundreds of miles. They certainly stop you from going to sleep when driving; I'm not sure just how you would get out if ever you fell in, presuming of course that you survived. I never really found out what their purpose is, it certainly wasn't for rainwater, more likely that they would hold up any foreign invaders trying to cross the roads.

My first area to visit was to be the Sea of Galilee. I remember learning all about the area in religious studies at school, so many names sounded familiar although the "sea" is really no more than a lake you can see across most of the time. Boats ferry tourists back and forth and can be very picturesque, particularly at this time of year (early spring), with yellow rape fields running down to the water's edge. Most of the tourist sites around the sea are filled with shops selling mainly cheap imports from Far Eastern countries, yes even here! I circumnavigated the Sea and settled in a small guesthouse in Tiberias, overlooking the Sea. After a couple of days enjoying the regular tourist places and taking photographs, listening in on the guided tours, I had itchy feet again and decided to drive off to the north west coast.

Looking at the maps and guidebooks I headed for a small town with a big history, Accra. Evidence of the city dates back over four thousand years, and for most of recorded history it has been a trading port. With it’s fortress wall, a moat and sea walls, it sounded interesting, Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar both lived here, but Napoleon was unable to conquer the city.

Most of the tour buses were parked on the harbour area, so I followed. The old town I found disappointing, with little to photograph. This may have been because most places were closing by the time I arrived and the weather was taking a turn for the worst, growing darker by the minute. The narrow streets and the noise of children playing drew me closer to the labyrinth of streets away from the harbour. With graffiti walls and homes only accessed through narrow doors, it all seemed much more interesting than where the buses and the tourists were.

J Brooks I wandered in to the town and began looking for those unusual photographs that can be so photojournalistic. Rounding a corner several streets into this maze, I came suddenly face to face with a dubious looking character who asked what I was doing. I explained that I was taking photographs - it seemed relatively harmless, and I was being honest. At this point the man insisted that I follow him back to the tourist area, he didn't want me to see how and where the local people lived. He then proceeded to give me a very rushed tour of the city, and then asked where my coach party was. I explained that I must have got separated. With a Nikon camera draped around me and a camera bag with my passport in it, I was beginning to feel very vulnerable. He now asked to be paid for his five-minute trip around the sea wall and back to somewhere in this maze of streets. I was beginning to feel very lonely, all the tourist coaches had left, something he too had realised. I protested that he offered to show me around and I had not asked him. His demands for cash grew by the minute and I emptied the small amount of change from my pockets into his hands and tried to back away. This only made him madder, he was now insulted and began asking for large amounts of money. After some fasttalking I managed to get several paces away and kept on walking as he followed me. I was lost in the maze of narrow streets with him behind waving his arms and shouting. I rounded a corner, saw my lone car on the car park, hastily ran, jumped in and sped off. He was last seen chasing me shouting and waving his fists but I breathed a sigh of relief and set about finding some where to spend the night.

After about an hour's drive north along the coast in darkness I saw the lights of a large hotel and stopped - it was the only one I had seen. I now felt safer but found that the hotel was empty as it was out of season. The night porter, who seemed to double as a security guard, was the only person there. He said I could stay and gave me the keys to a room as he hardly took his eyes of the TV perched precariously on the counter. I took all my bags and cameras up to the room only to find that the lock on the door was broken. A check revealed that none of the doors along the corridor had locks either. I debated what to do, but when I asked the porter he didn't seem so worried. In addition, there was no food in the hotel, which seemed to be miles from anywhere. I didn't wish to leave all my belongings or to return them all to the car to drive off looking for food so when he offered to ring for a pizza I agreed. Having shared a meal with this very interesting person I was soon fast asleep with the chair propped against the door, having had enough drama for one day. However much more was to come.

I had reached Kefar Rosh Ha Niqra, about as far north as you can go in Israel on the coast. After doing the tourist thing of exploring the caves, I visited the café and struck up a conversation with two American, UN soldiers. They had just finished two weeks duty in Lebanon began to tell me all about life on the other side of the fence, how restrictive everything is and many other things, although they were a little guarded about what they said. I had them take my photograph as close to the border as was possible. If you step too far you can be arrested and cameras are banned from this area anyhow. I just wanted to be able to say "I was there". After saying goodbye to my new-found army friends, I decided to travel inland, along the Lebanon border. The road was marked as a scenic route on the map, so I thought it would provide more photographic opportunities.

After travelling for some time, up and down hills and round bends I realised that I was getting away from the other traffic and the road began to follow the dividing fence bordering the two the countries. I stopped several times to go up to the fence and glance through to see the villages in the hills on the other side pondering on what my army friends had related to me. Was it all true, what was life really like for them? After some more photographs of the area showing the "Star of David" flying over the huge fences, I moved on. I was getting low on fuel and there were no filling stations around. I could only carry on and hope that some villages on the map were not too far.

J brooks The roads became narrower and more hilly By now I hadn't seen a soul for some hours, I was beginning to wonder what I was doing up there. Suddenly as I rounded a bend I found a huge white jeep with very big wheels coming towards me. It seemed to fill the road and as I swerved it swerved up the bank opposite. I remember glancing across as we passed seeing the very cross officer with goggles on his helmet. We missed each other by centimetres. I carried on around the next bend and came upon a group of hundreds of soldiers, with armoured vehicles all over the place. It was in a clearing next to a huge concrete gun emplacement. It was just like a scene out of a movie except this was for real. I instinctively pulled the open map over my cameras and stopped the car. I wound down the window, surrounded by troops. I explained that I was an English tourist and had taken the "pretty route" on the map I was hoping that I would not have to get out of the car and reveal my cameras as this could have made things a little difficult. With a smile, I asked the way and was politely told that I should turn left at the next junction and head away from the border. Grinning, I drove slowly away but as soon as I was around the next bend I stopped to catch my breath. I considered going back and asking to take some photographs of the troops and with their armoured vehicles, it would have made fascinating material with all those guns and props. After a few seconds deliberation I thought better of it and drove on to find a refuelling spot.

With a few hours of light remaining, I proceeded on towards my destination. The weather getting worse, I should have just pressed on and sought the comfort of a nice hotel but the temptation of suddenly seeing a sign that pointed to a vista view proved irresistible. I turned up the dirt track road and followed it for about half a mile to a clearing at the end of the road. I was aware that there was a building hidden by weeds and young trees which I later realised was a gun emplacement. I drove the car as far as I could towards a mound of earth that seemed to overlook the valley, left the car and walked the 30 or 40 metres to the outcrop of land. On a nice day it might have looked fine but the clouds were rolling in and drizzle filled the air. As I turned to walk back to the car I noticed several signs protruding through the grass. I froze as I read the words "Land Mines", I had I realised, walked into a minefield. Suddenly the idea of taking photographs didn't seem as interesting. With not a soul for miles and darkness creeping on I carefully retraced my steps, did the smallest three point turn on record, drove the car slowly back along the dirt tracks to the tarmac road and then headed off towards Zefat.

I was awakened next morning by the shutters on the balcony windows rattling in the wind and the sound of heavy rain lashing on glass. The previous evening's lovely view under the stars was now reminiscent of England at this time of the year. I turned on the TV hoping to see a breakfast programme that might give the weather forecast, all I could get was children's programmes in Hebrew. The news arrived on the hour and weather duly followed but I had forgotten the weather symbols are read from right to left and as they are only flashed on for few seconds I missed the details. I asked at the front desk on my way down to breakfast. The man said there was a storm coming in and it would get much worse for the next few days.

My holiday trip was turning out more dangerous than I had anticipated. I was now thinking how to get back to safer areas to do more sensible things. Earlier on whilst I was visiting the Sea of Galilee I had driven up towards the Golan Heights region and had heard the firing of heavy artillery just over the hill. They were using live ammunition and I had been told off for straying into an old abandoned village built out of black stone. I had thought it was very interesting and worthy of recording on film but the security men, called Park Rangers, drove past and called me off the land as they didn't want me there.I studied the maps again and decided that I would head south towards the desert regions and make a final decision on how far to go when I reach a junction in the road approximately half way down the country. I could turn towards Jerusalem or carry on to the Red Sea resort of Eilat. At least it would be nicer weather and I would see something of the other side of this country before I put myself in any more danger. One thing I hadn't thought of was how to get out of Zefat. Every road I seemed to take ended up going the wrong way or back where I had started from but after some thirty minutes I eventually found my way out. The road signs are in Hebrew and road numbers are very often not displayed!

J Brooks My journey south would take me back along the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea, retracing my steps but there is no other way around the occupied territories. The car insurance becomes invalid; the police and security forces disown you and would not enter these areas even if you called them for help. I stayed clear of them but driving past the roads that lead to the settlements, roads have been built to skirt these areas especially for this purpose. Imagine driving from Scotland to the South Coast of England and having to drive around both Manchester and Birmingham because they were occupied territories.

By mid afternoon I had reached my halfway point and was sat in the sunshine enjoying a coffee and deciding which way to go next. I started counting the coaches heading for Jerusalem. In twenty minutes I had counted some forty coaches all going for one thing, to see the Pope. I had visions of "no room at the inn" so I chose to carry on down south and leave Jerusalem until last on my schedule.

It was late evening when I arrived in Eilat very tired and feeling as though I really needed a few days relaxation. I had driven through a sandstorm on the way and had stopped to take photographs, which was rather silly as the winds were about gale force. The only way to hold a camera still was to rest it on the roof of the car although the whole thing was rocking from side to side. I did manage a few photographs of what looked like the moon, but in fact was the sun. With tumble weed rolling across the roads it was difficult and tiring work just keeping the car on the road. With the sandstorm behind me I began to see the bright lights and hotels and the atmosphere reminded me very much of approaching Las Vegas across the desert in Nevada. This was a welcome relief from my previous experiences.

After a few days of "holiday" enjoying the delights of the resort and the Red Sea, I was ready to drive back to see Jerusalem, particularly as my hotel had changed my room every day since I had arrived. Also, the students had now all arrived for their vacation. On the evening before I left I counted ten coaches unloading for my hotel alone, several students sharing a room. It was obviously good fun for them, as they acted as though they had never been anywhere before. Just trying to get the lift was an experience, some seemed to be travelling up and down all night. Viewed from the other side of the road my hotel was a comic sight; every window was being opened and closed and friends were shouting to each other and waving to anyone in the street below. I was not sad to leave them to it.

Jerusalem is a fascinating city, a mix of religions and cultures, a huge city within a city. The old walled city is where all the tourists tend to go. Inside this city are miles of narrow roads and covered walkways where some six hundred thousand people live and trade. It is divided into four areas: Jewish, Muslim, Christian and Armenian; you can enter the town by seven gates. One can spend days wandering around the souks and bargaining with the traders or visiting the many different churches. There is the Christian church of the Holy Sepulchre, which is owned by six other denominations: Roman Catholics, Greek Orthodox, Ethiopian, Armenian, Syrian and Coptic. They all distrust one another so the keys to the church are held by a Muslim family and have been for centuries!

I was privileged to have had the opportunity to visit this fascinating country and enjoyed my experiences immensely, it was now time for me to return home and leave my friends in Israel. I met up one last time with Chanan and family and we exchanged tales and drank into the night before I drove to the airport. Not only do I have some most memorable times to remember I also have some several hundred photographs, which were fun taking - well most of the time. After a trip like this a "normal" holiday will seem extremely tame!

J Brooks

The SWPP 2008 Convention was an outstanding success,
we have 191 days to get ready for the 2009 convention - which starts on January 14, 2009

Photo Quote: To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the Palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour. - William Blake,