Something about Akko (in photos)

There’s something about Akko – or Acre as it is also known – that draws me in, the layers of ancient civilization, preserved for us to roam endlessly, fueling our imaginations, the ever-present sounds and smells of the sea, the alleyways and infinite opportunities to explore and discover – and, of course, to photograph.

(Laura Ben-David)

For these reasons and more, I always grab the opportunity to make the 2+ hour drive to Akko. And so it was with delight that I agreed to a 45 minute work program there, knowing that I would find something else to do once I was there, even if it was just wandering aimlessly about with my camera: exactly what I ended up doing.

I thought I would gain a day at the beach, some beautiful images and a bit of fun. But on this trip, I gained something beyond the expected.

Typically my trips to Akko have me put ‘Old City’ into Waze and I spend my time wandering around between the port and the Napoleon-era cannons on the Old Wall near the visitor’s centre; but this time I thought I’d venture to uncharted (for me) territory and so I put the slightly further north  Promenade into Waze and took it from there.

(Laura Ben-David)

The Promenade (Tayelet ha-Khof ha-Tsfoni) is exactly how you’d imagine a promenade at a seaside port city to look, with the addition of ancient walls and other artifacts. What I DIDN’T expect is what a small-town feel I would get while there. The most similar experience I’ve had was probably the promenade in Jaffa, a city adjacent to the even more populous Tel Aviv; with a combined population at nearly half a million, you can wander around for hours with total anonymity. Acco, with a population a mere tenth of that of Tel Aviv-Jaffa, was an entirely different – and delightful – experience.

(Laura Ben-David)

Acco and Jaffa have something else in common – both are mixed Jewish Arab towns. While I live in Gush Etzion, and often interact with Arabs, it is, unfortunately, a very different type of interaction, one that, too often, is laced with caution. In Akko, I felt none of the tension or accompanying caution – and much of the coexistence I wish we had everywhere.

In Akko, I felt something else that I didn’t necessarily feel in the bustle of the Gush or in the hectic crowds of Tel Aviv: approachability. With about two hours until sunset, I wandered about, never out of sight of the sea. I explored the ancient walls along the promenade, took some selfies, and posted one on Instagram. I observed families playing by the water and the playgrounds; individuals running, relaxing, walking dogs; groups of friends hanging out… 

(Laura Ben-David)

And so, in Akko I did something I rarely do: I engaged with people. I walked up to them. I talked to them. I asked them if I could photograph them. And they always, always said ‘Yes.’ And, sometimes, they asked ME if I could photograph them… I was in heaven. I photographed old people and young people, Jews and Arabs. In fact, lots and lots of Arabs.

(Laura Ben-David)

As the sun dipped below the horizon, when the fiery reflection that had me totally mesmerized had faded into dusk, I packed up my camera and started heading back up the promenade to my car. It was only then that the first incident occurred to indicate just how small Acco was… A woman I’d never seen before came running up to me and said in Hebrew, ‘There you are! I’ve been looking for you!’ I turned around to see who she must have been talking to but there was no one else there.

(Laura Ben-David)

‘You were looking for me?’ 

‘Yes!’ she said to my amazement. ‘There was this bird with a fish… it was incredible! I knew you would want to photograph it…’ 

Unbelievable. A woman sees something photo-worthy and searched for the one person she happened to see wandering around with a camera.

(Laura Ben-David)

It gets better.

I received a text message on Instagram from someone I’d never spoken to named Mohamad: ‘Why didn’t you take a picture of me?’

‘Oh were you with that group of guys wearing black shirts?’ I answered right away, though I knew I had photographed ALL of the guys in black shirts (and sent them their photos) plus I’ll admit to being somewhat surprised at receiving a message at all when I’d never even introduced myself or said my name to anyone.

The guys with the black shirts. (Laura Ben-David)

‘No… I was alone,’ was his answer. 

Now I was totally perplexed. ‘So how do you know who I am?’

‘I saw the picture you posted on Instagram. Then I looked up and saw you walking by…’

(Laura Ben-David)

I’m sure my mouth gaped in astonishment. For now I knew with certainty that Acco is beautiful, mysterious, exciting… and a really small town that to my mind offers some of the best Israel has to offer – incredible sights, glorious seaside, and, most of all, its people.