A Visit to the Dead Sea by Ludwig Richard Conradi

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · May 20, 1902

A Visit to the Dead Sea

By Ludwig Richard Conradi

L. R. CONRADI

When one sees the Dead Sea from Jerusalem, he thinks he could reach it in one or two hours, but it took us fully five hours to make the journey by team. Before the German emperor visited Palestine, only a donkey and camel path led down the deep gorges to the Jordan Valley, but a good road was prepared before him. From Bethany to the Jordan we passed but two houses. The first house was near the Apostles’ Springs, so-called in honor of the supposed use the apostles and our Saviour made of these springs on their way to Jerusalem. The other place is called the Inn of the Good Samaritan. Aside from these two signs of an inhabited land, nothing else removed the feeling of desolateness save the casual appearance of a lone shepherd with his flock. The road descends three thousand feet in reaching the Jordan Valley, and at this low altitude, even in December, the heat was quite oppressive. The vegetation much resembles that of inner Africa.

Repairing to the Dead Sea, concerning the peculiarities of whose waters we had heard so much, we took a bath, to test these qualities for ourselves. The water is so extremely salt that one can easily float on its surface, and if one gets a bit of it in his eyes, it causes extreme pain. On coming out of the water, one’s skin feels as if it had been oiled. We found many small Jordan fishes that had been cast dead upon the shore.

Again starting on our journey, by sunset we reached the Greek monastery, standing all alone in this uninhabited region. One of the monks who knew English, had been at our mission in Jerusalem, and another had inquired about it. They received us kindly, gave us supper, lodging, and breakfast, and would accept nothing whatever for their hospitality. As there is no other habitation here, this monastery does some good in sheltering the poor wayfarer. As physicians frequently recommend bathing in the salt water of the Dead Sea, it would be a blessing if some small, temporary institution could be erected there, affording shelter and treatment.

The next morning we walked on to New Jericho, a small Bedouin village. The site of ancient Jericho is said to be about half an hour farther up, near Elijah’s Well,—the clearest and best spring I saw anywhere in the Orient. The Bedouins are to Palestine what the Indians are to North America. I met a number of these people on their fine horses, heavily armed with their long lances. They dwell especially in the country across the Jordan, the mountains of Moab. We could see their camp fires. They are quite independent of the Turkish government; in fact, the Turks have little to say in the land east of the Jordan, where these wild tribes have dwelt from time immemorial. Their dwellings are light, waterproof, portable tents, made of black goats’ hair.

These black tents of Kedar are mentioned in Solomon’s Songs, 1:5.

On the way back to Jerusalem, the horses balked, and four of us walked up the hill to the Inn of the Good Samaritan, thus called because the incidents recorded in our Lord’s parable in answer to the question, “Who is my neighbor?” are thought to have taken place in this region. About midnight our team came up, and we proceeded by moonlight. En route, we saw a large hyena feasting upon the carcass of a camel. As we drew near, it retreated toward the mountain, but after we had passed, it returned to its meal.

By early morning we reached the city, where we were glad to find Brother and Sister Jesperson, and Sister Baumann, who had arrived safely from Basel. Brother Jesperson had come to take charge of the health institute, thus relieving Brother Krum for more active field work. We hope that under the present arrangement, the medical mission in Jerusalem may be the means of accomplishing much good, and bringing to many precious souls a knowledge of the truth for this time.