Journey to the Holy Land / 8
where hatred hath been materialized. The tomb is divided between Muslims and Jews.
Tomb of the Patriarchs in reality is a complex building that contains in addition to the mosque and the synagogue, a church and the Machpelah Cave - a place that biblical tradition believed to have been bought by Abraham to the Hittites to bury his wife Sarah, and then he was buried there, along with Isaac and Jacob and their wives - with mixed architecture of the Herodian age, and Islamic crusade.
The tombs of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Rebecca and the other patriarchs still in itself is not particularly attractive. At least the building's interior, often bent in its austere beauty to the needs of each votive and others, does not seem extraordinary, while the exterior is powerful and elegant at the same time. But the checkpoints the spoil, in the silence most complete of the classic voices of tourists, there are more on the massacre carried out in 1994 by an Israeli settler at the entrance of the tomb. I am the only visitor who is not Muslim-Palestinian mosque in the section, or jew-Israel, a synagogue in the section.
In particular I am struck by the depression that Muslims living in the mosque, trailed by their prayers and painful, I would say bloody, and the other side of the frenzy that seem all very orthodox Jews, on the verge of fanaticism. In the synagogue there is a large influx of soldiers, young soldiers seem to me, all tasks and very absorbed in prayer and waving syncopated typical of the Jews. They act as if you were not there, give me the impression of people so focused on themselves by not realizing that the world is colorful. Fear is a funny thing.
On the way backwards along the shopping street that leads to the Tomb, Palestinian merchants all, without exception, and an unknown number of mocciosetti who want to sell the bracelets in the colors of the Palestinian flag, I invite you to buy something. The Merchant of pulses, also a blacksmith, also a shoemaker. And I would give them something, but it would be endless trouble, a drop in the bucket. I take them with me in my heart, I accept them in their disillusionment, as well as carry with me those tin soldiers. Lead to fear.
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