BYU-Jerusalem Students Go to Hell

I can officially say that I have been to hell and back. Ironically I met some of the kindest people in hell and it was a rather pleasant experience. But lest you start to worry about my eternal salvation, I ought to tell you that hell is a very real place in Jerusalem.

Just below Mount Scopus (where I live) lies the Kidron Valley, and if you follow it the Kidron Valley meets with the Hinnom Valley at the base of the City of David. Our English idea of hell corresponds to the word “Gehenna” which is the Greek equivalent of the “valley of Hinnom.” According to the LDS Bible Dictionary, the Hinnom Valley is “a deep glen of Jerusalem where the idolatrous Jews offered their children to Moloch” (a pagan god). Later this glen was used as a place for burning garbage and thus it became symbolical of torment. You probably have never considered where the term hell-fire came from, but now you know!

And so partly out of curiosity and largely to earn the bragging rights, I set out with eight friends on a journey to hell. As a side note, we thought it would be funny if we all wore the soccer jerseys we bought in Egypt and so we all matched and took some team photos along the way.

In the Holy Land, you cannot go anywhere without finding reminders of the past, and so as we walked through the Kidron Valley we stopped to explore some tombs that we found along the way including the tomb of Absolom (son of David). I always feel like Indiana Jones when I’m feeling my way through small dark space though I generally turn back when I start to feel cobwebs. (Don’t worry; these tombs are usually empty of their former inhabitants.) Juxtaposed with the tombs, there was also much to indicate that life goes on in the valley. Herds of goats grazed on the hillside while the goat herders reclined lazily in the shade watching them and further down the path kids played games near a corner store. And to complete the picture, a group of Americans (and two Canadians) wearing matching Egypt jerseys walked by snapping pictures as they went.

When we finally got to hell, which was surprisingly hard to find, we met a very nice Palestinian man named Ahmud. He asked us where we came from and told us a little bit about himself and then invited all nine of us to come to his house, which was across the street – keep in mind that most Palestinian homes are very modest in size. Outside his home, Ahmud introduced us to his grandkids and then showed us around his garden, breaking off shoots from one tree for us to take home, which he gave to us in a potted plant. Unfortunately his wife then came out with little cups of tea for us and we had to refuse and try to explain in broken English why we couldn’t accept it. They both looked a bit upset and he said that for an Arab it is forbidden to turn down something like that when you are at someone’s house. We tried to explain that we don’t drink tea for religious reasons and I hope that he understood.

He soon cheered up again and we sat on chairs outside his house and listened to him tell us about his family. He also told us why he did not like George Bush, which we tend to hear quite often. He also told us that the Arabs are good people and that their hearts are white and not black and asked us to tell people when we go home (and so I am telling you now). He also said the Jews are his brothers and that the conflict was originally because of outsiders interfering in the Middle East. Before we left we sang him a song and thanked him for inviting us to his home.

On our way home, we took a short cut through the Orson Hyde Garden on the Mount of Olives and then through a field above the garden. There under some trees we found a large group of Palestinians sitting on blankets having a picnic. They called us over and invited us to eat some meat as they asked us where we were from. We didn’t stay long but we did share some of their food and a few friendly words in broken English and a few hearty “thank you’s” in Arabic (it’s one of the only words I know).

It amazes me that these families would stop a group of strangers passing by and invite them to share their food. Granted we were wearing matching clothes and probably looked a bit unusual, but at home that would never happen. I have been very impressed at the generosity of the Palestinian people. They don’t have very much – Ahmud in his run down little house and the family with their blankets and old barbeque – but they are willing to give so much. I think that we, who have so much in comparison, have to learn to be more like these Palestinians who have a true sense of who their neighbours are. I hope that through our interactions with them, the people here in Israel will also sense our sincerety.

Overall, I think our PR tour for the Egyptian soccer team turned out to be largely successful.

P.S. I have added the links to my Facebook photo albums so that those without Facebook can view more of my photos. Just click on the album title and it should take you right there. One of them includes photos from my trip to Galilee. Enjoy!


The team next to Absolom's tomb.


Walking through the Kidron Valley.


Our new Palestinian friend Ahmud.