Midbar Yehudah©

Vehicle half open at the sides

Midbar Yehudah

Written by: Vardah Littmann             Photos by: Rimonah 

                                                          Www.israelcamerafocus.blogspot.com

 Judean desert

Several highways traverse the Judean desert, rolling up                          

and down the gentle hills and permitting their travelers a

glimpse of the vistas beyond, between the various settlements

scattered about the region the nations of the world call

“occupied”. The first thing that strikes someone new to visit is

how little of the space actually is occupied – vast expanses still

lie untouched, trodden only occasionally by passing flocks of sheep driven by a boy-shepherd, perhaps seeded with clusters of olive trees that cling tenuously to the sides of steep ravines and stepped stone slopes. It was to these empty expanses that Dovid Hamelech fled from his enemies, but today, one needs an extra measure of protection to tread these slopes.

Nonetheless, we were not deterred, having long awaited the opportunity to step beyond our known boundaries and walk on the Land of our Forefathers

We were a group of around forty Bais Yaakov teachers, 
setting out in a vehicle half open at the sides, so as to

afford us the closest proximity to our surroundings.
 After heading out of the Holy City we planned to plunge

into the hills, emerging into open land – the Land we yearned to touch,
 the Land that is hidden under the

View from Kvis 4

asphalt of the cities in which we are usually confined.

Even before we exited the official boundaries of Yerushalayim, there were plenty of hints to the sides of

the road that we were on our way into a different experience

of reality. The Holy City encompasses an enchanting

blend of ancient and modern, combining to present the

viewer with an experience without parallel.

We were a group of around forty Bais Yaakov teachers, setting out in a vehicle half open at the sides, so as to afford us the closest proximity to our surroundings. 

After heading out of the Holy City we planned to plunge

into the hills, emerging into open land – the Land we yearned to touch,
 the Land that is hidden under the

asphalt of the cities in which we are usually confined.

Even before we exited the official boundaries of                                                 Yerushalayim, there were plenty of hints to the sides of

the road that we were on our way into a different experience

of reality. The Holy City encompasses an enchanting

blend of ancient and modern, combining to present the

viewer with an experience without parallel.

Now we sped past Ramat Shlomo, a suburb where                                 

some 3,000 families live. This area, well within

the municipal boundaries of the capital city but

declared by the world to be an “illegal settlement,”

is the one that recently found itself the target of

international fury regarding proposed expansion.

The new homes planned for the neighborhood

would have provided only a partial answer to the

growing housing crisis in the region,

but it seems that only Arabs can

get away with catering to their

 Security Fence.

needs…

We passed a section of the

notorious Security Fence, which

in its soft sandstone color

attempts, a little vainly, to blend

into its surroundings.

In July 2004, the International

Court of Justice in the Hague

officially ruled that Israel was

not allowed to build such a

barrier, despite its being strictly

defensive in nature. Some of the

nations opposed to the fence have

themselves constructed fences –

for economic reasons, to keep out

migrant workers, not for reasons

of pikuach nefesh.

We traveled along the highway leading to the Dead Sea. 

Maaleh Adumim

When the cluster of red roofs of Maaleh

Adumim appeared to our right we turned in their direction.                

The name of this neighborhood is 
derived from Sefer Yehoshua (15:6-18), in which Maaleh Adumim is described as the area on the border 

between the tribes of Yehudah and Binyamin. The route leading from here to Yerushalayim is surrounded by rock formations of a reddish hue, hence thename. Maaleh Adumim was founded by twenty-three pioneer families on the seventh night of Chanukah, thirty-five years ago. The population today stands at over 34,500. A recently constructed highway

enables its residents, along with those of the 
other Jewish towns along the Yerushalayim-Jericho

road, to reach the city center within just seven minutes.

Upon reaching Yishuv Kedar

Bedouins

we left the paved road and our

open bus lurched and swayed as

we traveled down the hillside                                                             

to see how the Bedouins live.

Over the coming days, my “Shelo

asani goy” was said with greater

kavannah as I thought back to

these people and their incredibly

primitive lifestyle.

Standing here in the midst of Bedouins

the open wilderness mainly

populated by our enemies, I was                                                

reminded of Am Yisrael’s status

as a sheep among wolves. Maybe

Lone black sheep

I was subconsciously inspired by

the lone black sheep in the flock

of white? Though we are the only         

nation truly aspiring to whiteness

and purity, the rest of the world

insists on painting itself in the

lightest of hues and portraying us
as the dark, evil ones.

We moved further and

further into the desert

terrain, climbing higher                                                                                                                             

 Breathtaking view

and higher. The view in all                                                                         

directions was breathtaking – we could see clearly as far 
as the Dead Sea, which appeared as a blue-tinted basin cradled 
among the towering rocks on all sides.

Our bus was now struggling against the steep incline, and so we alighted and took a ten-minute stroll up to “Azazel”. 

This peak gained its name from the belief held by some that it was from here that the goat for Azazel was 

flung to its fate on Yom Kippur, during the days when the Beis Hamikdash still stood. Scattered rays of sunlight broke their way through the clouds to cast the entire landscape in an almost

Junction between two worlds

other-worldly light. Shadow and brightness contrasted to create the impression that we were literally standing at the junction between two worlds,as sunset approached and darkness fought to overtake light.

I have no zechus to merit that for which millions of Jews have longed and davened for, for thousands of years. It is only due to pure chessed on Hashem’s part that I live in and am able to explore the Land of the Avos, the Land Hashem chose as His, above all others. For this great privilege and all His other innumerable, unending kindnesses to me and mine, I thank Hakadosh Baruch Hu, and may I become more worthy of receiving His blessings.

Published in the' Sha’ah Tovah' magazine 28 July, 2010.

Eretz Yisrael in the lens

This Iris was hiding in the shade of a rock in Midbar Yehudah. 

My sister Rimonah was kind enough to captured it for me.