Middle East

Jerusalem
“One finger cannot lift a pebble”.
— Persian Proverb
There are few countries in the world whose very name evokes both ancient civilizations and modern geopolitical fault lines. Iran, cradle of the Achaemenid Empire and home to Persepolis, Golestan Palace, and the Silk Road’s eastern reaches, has long intrigued travelers including me. Cultural heritage exhibitions from the National Museum of Iran have drawn crowds abroad — like the 2024 “Glory of Ancient Persia” tour that attracted tens of millions of visitors in China — and locals often speak proudly of these legacies. Yet today, the idea of visiting Iran sits in limbo because of a war that has reshaped regional mobility and frozen tourism ambitions in the dust of airspace closures and safety warnings.
This episode of World Footprints explores how culture is experienced, preserved, and challenged through movement and art. From walking the length of Israel’s coastline to preserving Eritrean identity through visual expression, and revisiting the humanitarian themes embedded in Dr. Seuss’s illustrations, this conversation highlights how storytelling shapes our understanding of place, history, and humanity.
Easter Sunday is the most joyous day in the Christian calendar. On a recent trip to Israel we had the pleasure of visiting numerous sites throughout the country that really brought the Bible to life for us.
The Western Wall, (Wailing Wall or Kotel), stands as one of the most iconic and revered sites in the world. Located in Jerusalem's Old City, this ancient limestone wall is the last remaining remnant of the four supporting walls that surrounded the Second Temple on Temple Mount. The Temple was destroyed in 70AD, and only this wall remains. As such, it is a site of profound religious and historical significance for Jews worldwide. <p>Since the destruction of the Temple, the Western Wall has been a source of inspiration and a site that keeps the memory of the Temple alive. The Kotel is always included in</p> <!-- /wp:paragraph --> <!-- [...]
It was a hot summer day when I left Jerusalem to travel south towards the Dead Sea, an indescribably beautiful salt lake, sitting peacefully landlocked between the countries of Israel and Jordan. Although visiting Israel had been on my bucket list since forever, the Dead Sea had always fascinated me the most.
Dubai never fails to astound visitors with its contrasting and marvelous sights. Most people visit here for its wealth of modern and cultural attractions. But Dubai is more than that; it is equally worth visiting for its natural splendors, especially its endless untouched desert.
I’m encouraged that real change for women is happening in Saudi Arabia. Women can now drive, attend sporting events, and go to the cinema, and the government has recently approved women to travel outside of the country without a male guardian’s approval.
Until I spent time in Palestine’s West Bank, seeing it with my own eyes and listening to people’s stories...I didn’t have a grasp or understanding of what was happening or why.
World Footprints speaks with Ayesha Tanzeem, Voice of America (VOA) Bureau Chief for Pakistan and Afghanistan, to discuss the region's COVID-19 response and challenges. Ayesha shares information not widely reported outside the Middle East, offering enlightening insights into the pandemic's impact.
A flood of flat-roofed buildings stands in sharp contrast to the blurry outlines of the distant hills. A chaos of dish TV antennas rules the rooftops. Several minarets of mosques stab the horizon. In southeastern Turkey, just 56 kilometres away from the Syrian border, from the window of my accommodation, I watch the city of Sanliurfa thrive.
Women’s rights have long been a huge issue in Saudi Arabia due to the strict application of sharia law within the country, with women only gaining the right to drive last year. However, a landmark ruling change will now give Saudi women over the age of 21 the right to obtain their own passports without the need for permission from a male guardian.
Picture this: You are in Aleppo, standing in front of what is left of your house. You are reeling with the loss of your mother, your father, your brother, or if the world is particularly cruel, more than one family member. An edgily dressed 19-year-old British boy on his gap year comes up to you and, instead of offering help, asks if he can take a picture with his expensive camera. You gawk in disbelief and struggle to comprehend why someone whose government was involved in the war is standing before you, asking for a piece of your dignity.














