Armenian Christian Nevart Torian of Bloomfield, Mich., displays a tattoo in the Razzouk family shop in the Old City of Jerusalem April 9. (CNS photo/Debbie Hill)
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By
Judith Sudilovsky , April 17, 2018
Three
generations of the Razzouk family busily attended to Christian pilgrims and
tourists packed into a tiny shop to get Christian tattoos to mark their
pilgrimages to the Holy Land.
The
Razzouk family has been tattooing Christian pilgrims in the Holy Land for 500
years — and 200 years before that in Egypt. One of their ancestors, Jeruis, was
a Coptic pilgrim to the Holy Land five centuries ago; he fell in love with the
land and decided to stay and used his tattooing skills to make a living. The
art of tattooing was passed down through the generations, with the methods
adapting themselves to the times.
Wassim
Razzouk, 44, the latest in a long line of family tattoo artists, also produces
elaborate tattoo images of Jesus, Mary, Jerusalem crosses and St. George
slaying the dragon. Some of these images are copied from original 500-year-old
wooden stamp blocks used by his ancestors. He has 60 of the original 300
stamps. Some pilgrims come specifically for these ancient, intricate designs.
The
tradition of Christian tattooing began among the Coptic Christians of Egypt
hundreds of years ago, with tiny crosses on the right wrist to identify
themselves as Christians. It continues today in Egypt, with the tattooing being
done in the churches. Razzouk said Catholic pilgrims also had been traditionally
tattooed in the Holy Land, and it was his family who later introduced the
tattoos to Orthodox pilgrims.
Along
the wall of Razzouk’s tiny studio, in an alleyway just inside Jaffa Gate, are
the earlier instruments used for the tattooing. Razzouk has upgraded the
studio’s standards and also brought it into the social media age with a website
and Facebook page.
Razzouk
joined his father in the family business 10 years ago, and today he is one of
the most sought-after tattoo artists in Jerusalem. In October 2017, he was
among a handful of local and international tattoo artists who participated in
Healing Ink Artist in Israel, giving free tattoos to people who have been
injured in war and terrorist attacks.
“I
really felt like it was a responsibility (to carry on the family tradition) so
I decided to do it,” said Razzouk, who prefers to work on his tattoos rather
than talk about working on tattoos. In the busy days following Easter, he and
two assistants worked nonstop.
Traditionally,
the older pilgrims got the tattoos, explained Matthew Johny, 27, a Syriac
Orthodox Christian from the Netherlands, but now younger Christians come for
them as well.
“Now
it’s becoming like a trend,” said Johny, who has two tattoos: a simple cross on
his right upper chest and the image of Mary on his right forearm. “But it
shouldn’t be something for a trend. It should be because you feel it. For me,
it is something which connects me to Jesus when he was nailed on the cross — to
make my body suffer just a little of what he felt, although of course it is not
possible to even come close to his suffering.”
On a
recent April afternoon, Razzouk’s parents helped by welcoming the clients and
handing out post-tattoo care advice, while his youngest son, Nizar, 15, helped
clients select patterns.
More
than two-thirds of the Razzouk clientele were Eastern Christians with family
origins in the Middle East. Most of these countries are enemies of Israel, and
pilgrims can visit the holy sites now only because they either obtained a
different foreign passport or are second generation living in the West.
Syrian-born
Nevart Torian, a U.S. citizen, traveled with a group from the New York-based
Eastern Diocese of the Armenian Church of America. Torian, 71, of Bloomfield,
Michigan, said she had waited for years to visit the Holy Land.
“I’ve
gone to Jerusalem and now I will have my cross,” she said, referring to the
tattoo she was getting on her right forearm. Torian said she feared she would
not be allowed into the country because, although she was traveling on an
American passport, her place of birth is noted as Syria. In the end, she went
through passport control just like the rest of her group.
Markus
Essen, 38, a Syriac Christian who lives in Turkey and often visits Jerusalem as
a tour guide, added the image of Jesus on one ankle and the religious
inscription INRI on his other ankle to his already plentiful religious tattoos
on his arms and chest.
“This
is the oldest tradition. It connects us across generations,” he said. The cross
he had tattooed on his right hand symbolizes God’s love, he said. “It says I am
Christian.”
Naila
Aslan, 39, a Syriac Christian who lives in Germany, and Lema Demir, 46, also a
Syriac Christian who now lives in Sweden, chose a less-traditional design,
opting for the image of a rosary encircling the names of their children on
their right forearms.
“We
are Christians and I love my children,” explained Aslan.
“This
is very special, my family started with this 700 years ago,” said Nizar Razzouk
as he sorted out the designs for the two women. “I am the next generation. Some
kids my age might not be interested in this and don’t see it as special, they
say it is just tattooing. But they just don’t understand.”
Wassim Razzouk tattoos a Christian pilgrim’s hand in the Old City of Jerusalem April 9. (CNS photo/Debbie Hill)
Wassim Razzouk tattoos a crucifixion scene from a 300-year-old wooden block on the leg of a tourist from France in the Old City of Jerusalem April 9. (CNS photo/Debbie Hill)
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