Stuck in Jerusalem during Passover

I don't know why I stressed out so much during this trip. As if I had never travelled alone. I guess it was mainly because I wasn't in my twenties anymore and I was starting to dislike being by myself and meeting people in their twenties or only couples in their thirties.

And also maybe, because travelling by myself in a middle eastern country had a bit of an edge. An edgy scary side.

My main objective, given that I was raised catholic, was to have a bit of an introspect spiritual journey.  However, I wasn't feeling spiritual at all. I was feeling as if I had a moon style cover over whatever sense I could make of life. I was blurred to any amaziness the world had to offer. I could only see shadows... (I might be a tad exaggerated about this).

The thing is Jerusalem was amazing, but during Easter, and after a few days it got too much. And then Passover came, and everything was empty, like in a ghost town, or on one of those cities that get emptied out before something really bad is about to happen. Passover was happening. No one could leave their houses, every shop was closed...Nothing, except a bit of the Muslim side, and the Catholic, all inside the closed gates of the city. Being in an empty city when you are travelling by yourself is not the best idea.

So I walked around and met people, or tried to smile at the jews, even though they would refuse any sort of contact. The only smile I got from a jew was from one I actually helped sort what appeared to be an existentialist crisis - turn the fridge on. Press the button. Turn it on.  I had no clue that they were left to nothingness during passover and at the mercy of other religions because doing anything - taking a lift even, was sacrilegious. So the many 'thank yous' I received that day, plus the apple she gave me made me feel useful and good. That was the highlight of my religious interactions. I'd done a good deed. During Easter.

There was also that amazing Easter 6 am mass I had at Ecco Huomo Monastery at the rooftop. That was sooo amazing. Seeing the sunrise, singing songs all together in both French and English, and the food they gave us afterwards - the mass brunch. I almost cried because I felt so happy.

And then the weird Easter mass at the Church of the Holy Sepulcre, and the fortunate encounter with an argentinean franciscan priest that told me how this was his first time there and he was freaking out, because he couldn't understand how all the different sorts of christianity could co exist.

And all the other places that I thought were worth it: the Austrian Hospice and it's amazing views and the cake, the crying Western Wall, and the Dormitory Abbey at Mount Zion where there is an great church where I felt Mary's presence, right at the basement of the church, where here sleeping statue lays.

But then I got stuck, stuck in there. And it all was too much. For me to take on my own.