The Cave of Elijah

I woke up the second day in Israel, resenting my alarm clock for waking me up, thinking what kind of vacation is this? But I was destined for the tour of the Baha'i gardens, so up I rose. I got dressed in the requested modest clothing and did my morning routine, but miscalculated the bus ride and missed the guided tour (karma punishment for resentments againts clocks?). I continued on the bus until it reached the port. There I found a take away coffee and wandered around the area. After lunch at the docks I headed westward towards the Immigrant and Navy museum. The Navy stuff was not so interesting, but the other half of the museum told the story of how, after WWII, many Jews organised themselves clandestine and bought ships to sail for Israel, but couldn't get in and were deported to detention camps in Cyprus. Djeez Louise, Groundhog Day goes camping.

I decided not to waste my modest dressing for that day and headed across the street from the museum and climbed the stairs for Elijah's cave, or the Cave of Madonna, or the Mosque Khadar depending on what faith you belong to.

Guide book says: “Elijah's Cave: a holy place for three faiths, is where the Prophet Elijah is believed to have hidden from King Ahab and Queen Jezebel after he slew the 450 priests of Ba'al (Kings 1:17-19).[...]. There is also a Christian tradition that the Holy Family sheltered here on their return from Egypt. [...] Although prior to 1948 the cave was a mosque dedicated to Khadar (the Green Prophet), Elijah in Muslim guise, these days the rock chamber is usually crammed full of praying Haredim [ultraorthodox Jews].”

At the bottom of the stairs I passed a Jewish family pick-nicking in full action. I noticed the 12 seats folding table they must have brought with them and thought to my self how pick-nick is a serious business for some (actually, eating together is a serious business here). The old lady selling religious nicknacks on the way up, hand signalled for me to cover my shoulders before entering, which I religiously did. Coming up the few stairs that leads to Elijah's cave, the first thing I saw was an old man scooping candle rests from this big outdoor-barbecue like shelf, situated on a terrace in front of the opening to the cave. Looking around, I saw several of these blocks with openings where candles burned. The gassy smell of burning wax was in the air. While looking around I tried my most not to catch the attention of the Rambling Man, that looked like he might have caught the Jerusalem syndrome, although we were about 200 kilometres away from Jerusalem (maybe it is highly contagious?), but to no avail. He came right up to my face and offered to sell me candles and right at that instant I re-baptised him Vodka Breath Man. I declined graciously and continued up the final stairs to get into the cave. There I realized where Vodka Breath Man had caught his syndrome; the cave was divided in two by simple wooded fence, girls on the right and boys on the left. The air was filled with low humming voices, of what I presume to be religious reciting, only to periodically be disturbed by high shrieks of what I can imagine being epiphanies or other forms of spiritual eurekas. The wooded fence, at least on the girls side, was covered with frames that had writings and some pictures. I recognized the one picture about the first documented UFO sighting (http://www.alienresistance.org/chariots_of_fire.htm) that's usually confused with the story about Elijah's ascension in a burning chariot in the sky, but I couldn't read what it said because it was in Hebrew (or Alien?). When I'd done the 2 seconds tour of the cave I stood out side checking my guide book, in case there was something crucial, but not obvious, about the cave that I had missed, I caught the Vodka Breath Man in a chatty mood. While he was mixing his bottles together and offering me a sip he asked the customary questions like where I was from, if it is cold there and how much money he needed to get there.

Vodka Breath Man: “Are you Jewish?”

Me: smiling, “No”

Vodka Breath Man: “Christian?”

Me: “No, Pagan!”

Vodka Breath Man: “What! What's that!? Buddhist???”

Me: “No, Pagan. You know, Thor and Odin and Freyja and those guys”

Vodka Breath Man: “Buddhist!”

Me: still smiling and now nodding “yes, I'm Buddhist”

Vodka Breath Man: “Are you sure you don't want a drink?”

Me: “yes, I'm sure”

Vodka Breath Man: “Are you sure you don't want a candle?”

“yes, I'm sure” I said as I got ready to walk away. Going down the stairs I tried to figure out the whole hype this cave is for religious people and try to put myself in their shoes, kind of. And as I turned back I noticed further on to the side, a little hidden kind of hole in the wall, with a sleeping bag and stuff, that kind of stuff you see the homeless guys in Paris have and I thought to myself “hmm, another cave...The cave of Vodka Breath Man."

Lehitra'ot