My motivation for visiting the Old City occurred against the backdrop of protests that began on July 14th after 2 Druze Israeli police were killed at the holy site. Sweeping security measures were quickly instituted by Israelis upending the status quo. Riots quickly spanned out of control over the next several weeks, with Palestinians and Israelis locked in a state of brinkmanship.
It’s important to note that the Old City of Jerusalem has a history with many estimates dating back 3000 years, and it remains a bastion of faith for three Abrahamic religions. And it’s full of contrasts.
Contrasting Views
The Jerusalem I had visited the previous year (in 2016) during an internship involved a vastly different experience. I had found myself wondering through West Jerusalem and stumbled upon the Jerusalem Gay Pride Parade. That year, I witnessed a celebration of love between two Israeli Jewish men (see above video).
That Jerusalem looked vastly different than the Jerusalem, I saw on this day during the protests.
The Old City is distinctive in comparison to greater Jerusalem. It reminds me of an interconnected system of corridors or a microcosm teeming with a long history of pride, heartache, and misery.
The four quarters (Armenian, Christian, Jewish, and Muslim) of the Old City are within the greater Jerusalem community (with whom they are affectionately referred to as Jerusalemites or the residents).
Many Jewish Israelis live in West Jerusalem, where the Israeli seat of government and the Supreme Court are located. Arab Palestinians and many Jewish settlers reside in East Jerusalem.
Protests remained peaceful on the day I arrived.
On this day, my path crossed a large group of Arab Palestinian men at the intersection of Sultan Suleiman Street and Derekh Yerikho – a busy thoroughfare that leads to the Mount of Olives and runs along the northeastern perimeter of the Old City.
The group of Arab males I found myself with were all under 50 years old. New Israeli security protocols meant no Muslim male under 50-years old would be allowed to enter Haram Al-Sharif to pray until after 6:00 pm.
Reporters gathered near the Palestinians, waiting to capture a shot if violence broke out. Across from us and separated by a steel security barriers stood a procession of uniform-clad Jerusalem police dressed in riot gear: some on horseback, others flanked by military assault vehicles.
The atmosphere was charged, and the temperature was a high 92 degrees Fahrenheit (33 Celsius), which only added to the intensity.
Anger and frustration were growing. The protest chants from the Arabs carried a beautiful melodic sound, which I could not understand, but it didn’t matter because I could feel the emotion. Sometimes you don’t have to understand the meaning of the words in a language to decipher the plight punctuated in every rhythmic iteration.
A surprising moment of tensions nearly erupted when a few younger Arab males who were becoming visibly frustrated – a sentry of older Arab males quickly descended on the group to mitigate the conflict and emotional angst.
It was an impressive demonstration of control. After all, everyone had shown up for the same reason – vocalize their frustration with the upending of the security status quo at Haram al-Sharif in a nonviolent manner.
And everyone worked together to fulfill this purpose. Arab volunteers wandered through the crowd, passing 
out bottles of water, ice cream, figs, and pastries.
And when 6:00pm arrived, the group of Arab Palestinians walked up the hill together to pray at Al-Aqsa Mosque.
Everyone in our group would make it through another day of prayer without incident.
