Day 15: Bedouins and Innocents

Everyone tells us we have to drive a hard bargain here, but to be honest we are totally useless at the process. In Hanoi we could tell ourselves that we were just bargaining over 50 cents or a dollar or two, which was ridiculous since that might be meaningful to them but was insignificant to us. Here, the stakes are quite a bit higher, but we are equally incompetent. Roslyn has read about a small shop in the Old City that has particularly excellent Palestinian embroidery.  As we glance tentatively into it, a young man grabs us by the arm, “Please enter, I will introduce you to my uncle”. Now an elderly man wearing a long black robe and a white taqiyah appears from the back of the shop. “Would you like Turkish coffee or mint tea? Don’t worry, you will not buy anything but you will accept my hospitality, I will show you my wares most of which were made by members of my family and we will be like brothers. Sit, sit”. He sends of another relative to fetch the drinks and begins to pull out some absolutely beautiful dresses. He describes how they are made, which of his relatives made them, how they will certainly increase in value and how he is giving us the rock bottom price.  He swears it would dishonor him if he were to charge us a dollar more than their minimum value. Samuel Longhorn Clemens must somehow have seen into the future and had us in mind when he wrote The Innocents Abroad, but his stock is indeed beautiful and I now know exactly how a fly feels when caught in the web. Our bargaining powers are so anemic as to require immediate hospitalization, but we eventually decide that we like the dress, that the price seems reasonable by US standards and we buy it. Of course we are then informed that his cousin has a new jewelry store down the lane and having bought something from him, we will be guaranteed a special low price.

     Up to now all of our interactions have been with secular or religious Jews, but not with any of the ultra-orthodox. Today, we finally have an interaction with one of the multitudes of Hassids here in Jerusalem and it is not exactly pleasant. While in the Old City we are approached by a rather large man in a black coat and hat who thrusts out his hand and demands "shekels!". When I reply no, he presses closer to me and demands in a louder voice "shekels for tzedaka ! (charity)".  Now there is no way I intend to support this dude whose sole occupations in life are to read Torah and produce little versions of himself. When I reply "no" a second time, he really gets aggravated and begins to repeat his demand, but before he finishes, Roz lets him have it with an extremely loud and emphatic "NO!! I suppose being turned down by a mere woman is a major affront to him so he starts to mutter loudly in Hebrew. Since my Hebrew is pretty much limited to "Ani lo medibare Ivrit" (I don't speak Hebrew), I cannot fully appreciate what he is calling me. However, I am struck that perhaps I should open a Yeshiva in Jerusalem since it is clear that the one he has attended has never bothered to teach him that charity that is not freely given is not charity at all, but simple extortion. 

Day 13: Sandstorms and Weddings

We set out for Josh and Diana’s wedding, but a blistering sand storm has blown in from the Negev. I struggle forward through the blinding wind-driven sand, a wet bandana stretched tightly across my face, my right hand pressed against the guiding stone wall to ensure we don’t wander off the path. Here in the Holy Land the dessert is a constant threat, a lethal reality, ready to crush the weak and unprepared.

Well…perhaps I exaggerate a bit, but it definitely is hazy out, no question of that. This afternoon an odd mist has settled over Jerusalem, almost like a low cloud, except that it is not cool or moist. It is indeed not a rain cloud, but a dust cloud so fine you don’t perceive it as dust at all – and it is, I am told the remnants of a distant sand storm. It cuts down the view from the Mount Zion Hotel, but it also renders the city a softness that the hard sunlight does not allow. Plus it keeps the temperatures down to a comfortable  level. The wedding takes place on the various back lawns at the Mount Zion Hotel, which turns out to be a lovely venue with (misty) views across to the Old City.  The wedding is totally delightful and similar to the Jewish weddings I have attended in the U.S with a few differences (1) the bride sits on a special chair to greet her female guests while (2) the men gather to fortify themselves with distilled liquids and usher the groom to his bride where he (3) covers her with a veil and asks her to marry him.  The couple are escorted to the Huppah  where the rabbi recites the marital blessings and then (4) launches into a long monologue, which, being in Hebrew, none of us can disagree with.  After the ring is presented and the Ketuvah is signed by the bride, the groom and various witnesses, (5) seven blessings are recited by various uncles and friends. Finally the glass is stomped on and we can all head for the food.  The hassles of the last few weeks have apparently been resolved, everyone is in place, Diana looks radiant, Josh looks presentable and from this guest’s perspective the wedding is a totally delightful event.

Day 11: Masada, the Dead Sea and Truths and Falsehoods about Israel

Nancy and Gene (Josh’s parents) have outdone themselves (strange term… how does one “outdo” oneself?) by providing for all the visiting guests a guided bus trip to Masada and the Dead Sea. Masada is…. well, Masada. Besides being one of the most dramatic archeological sites I have ever seen, it also has a history that is constantly being reinterpreted. For example, our guide points out its changing role in Israel’s self-narrative  (I’m happy to talk individually with you about this, but as one example,  the army no longer does it swearing-in ceremonies here – only the Engineering Corp, and they only because they were the ones who constructed the access roads to the site).  Again, no reason for me to describe it since you have to see it yourself.

A view of the remains of one of the Roman forts used to besiege Masada

Some Truths and Falsehoods about   Israeli life

1. “Israeli drivers are horrible!”  (F) If you have driven in Massachusetts you have nothing to fear from Israeli’s drivers on the road. Indeed they are better at signaling lane changes and certainly far better about stopping for pedestrians at crossings than Mass. drivers. However, should you find yourself standing in a crowd of Israeli drivers at a falafel stand, then your life is indeed in danger. 

2. “Israeli Food is Horrible” (T/F) We have actually had a couple of good meals here, but when all the Israelis we meet say “well, it’s not as bad as it used to be…” you know that this is not the place to come for a culinary adventure (falafel, hummus and halvah excepted).

3. “Israeli cabdrivers are horrible”  (T) We haven’t taken too many, but from our experience and that of others attending the wedding, I would ask that if any of you know of an honest one, please do send us his name as quickly as possible. The way they take advantage of visitors is shameful (really!).

4. “A Visit to the Dead Sea is A Must” (F) As far as I am concerned the Dead Sea is the aquatic equivalent of Road Kill.  The younger members of our party seemed to enjoy it, but I frankly don’t see the appeal of burning my feet on hot sand, slipping on rocks and staggering around in mud just to immerse myself in warm brine for five minutes. Far better to fill a bathtub with hot chicken soup and splash around in that. 

Day 10: Josh and Diana and the Old City

We have had a night ride through the Old City and an afternoon wandering about on our own and today Josh and Diana will guide us (and other people coming for the wedding) to some of their favorite places in the Old City. One could spend days here (just getting out of the clutches of a young Arab lad who insists on guiding me to the Jaffa Gate) but the places Josh and Diana have chosen are the Tower of David, the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, a great Palestinian sweet shop in the Moslem Quarter that serves wonderful kanafeh, the Ninth Hour Service at the St. James Cathedral in the  Armenian Quarter and the Western Wall. Strict rules accompany attendance at the Ninth Hour Service and two of our party deviate by crossing their legs. However, this infraction incurs only a stern rebuke and does not spark an international incident.  We end the first part of our tour at the Western Wall.

Josh and Diana have already reserved a block of tickets for a night visit to the Western Wall tunnels and this was certainly one of the highlights of our time in the Old City. The guide was excellent and she clearly explained the history of the Second Temple and the relationship both physically and spiritually of the Western Wall to the Temple. (There are, after all, Eastern, Southern and Northern Walls!). One gets to walk the full length of the wall (only 12% of it is actually accessible at the Western Wall Plaza) and see the details of its construction. An amazing tour - this one is an absolute must-see if you visit Jerusalem. 

Day 9: The #13 Bus and Yad VaShem

We generally feel that we haven’t experienced a place until we have struggled with the public transportation system. For some reason that escapes me, the public transportation system in Jerusalem has no useful guide to the bus routes and no bus map. Luckily, private individuals have stepped forward to remedy this deficiency and (finally I am going to give you some useful information!!) if you have Google Earth loaded on your computer, a wonderfully useful interactive bus map can be found at

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=http:%2F%2Fwww.orenstransitpage.com%2Fotpisraelpics%2Fjlembusmap%2Fjerusalembusmap.kmz&ie=UTF8&z=12

(it starts as a default showing all the bus routes and stops so you need to deselect  the day routes box, the night routes box and the stops first and then select the bus routes you are interested in)

We take the 13 bus to Yad VaShem (the Holocaust Memorial). Even though both Roz and I have been steeped in knowledge about the Holocaust since childhood and know many of the details, this is still an overwhelming experience. Since it is described in many guidebooks there is no need for me to repeat their detailed descriptions except to say that we spent four hours there and wish we had been able to stay another two hours. Another of Roz’s cousins, Larry and his wife Gila pick us up and take us to dinner and we spend a very pleasant evening with them.  After dinner they also take us on a quick car tour of the city and even into the edge of the Mea Shearim, the extremely large ultra-orthodox section of Jerusalem. We find the scene there somewhat bizarre, but that is because we are secular U.S. Jews (actually it would be bizarre even were we from the Planet Ork.)

Day 8: Shabbat in Jerusalem

I should start with the standard disclaimer that the views expressed herein reflect only those of the author and may not be congruent with those of the United States of America, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, the City of Newton or my loving spouse.  Also, I take full responsibility for any distortions of opinions expressed to me during my stay here (remember, my motto is “The Truth or Something Better”.) However, I find my response to Jerusalem to be very mixed. The city is beautiful, the layers of history astounding, and the mix of people unique, but the constant presence and power of the ultra-orthodox I find oppressive.  And apparently I am not the only one who regards their control of life in the city with despair. From my conversations with a variety of secular Jews here, it is clear that the demands the ultra-orthodox is a major point of tension.  Indeed the children of one family all left Jerusalem for Tel Aviv, at least in part because they resented the control of the ultra-orthodox over their lives. Others have framed it in economic terms with the general view that the very religious contribute little in terms of economic output for the state of Israel, but consume a very large proportion of state resources. 

Our Shabbat morning is spent exploring the Mayer Museum of Islamic Art  (which, in addition to telling the story of Islam and exhibiting its various artifacts also has one of the best watch and clock collections in the world. A large part of the collection was stolen 25 years ago, but was recovered in 2008 and is now again on display. For the full story, see  http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/nov/05/naaman-diller-israeli-clock-thief

In the afternoon we return to the Old City to wander the streets of Christian area with its narrow lanes  and tiny market stalls. What was empty of life at 11:30 last night is now filled with a mass of humanity and the sounds of a multitude of languages echo down the passageways. We finally find a haven of calm amidst the turmoil in the Austrian hospice café, which has excellent apple strudel.

Day 7: A Night Ride through the Old City

Today we arrived in Jerusalem. Even the most secular Israeli’s we have spoken to refer to Jerusalem with pride and enthusiasm. I have carefully mapped out the route to our rental apartment, but we miss one critical turn. In Jerusalem, missing one turn is not simply a matter of going around the block. When you sin in Jerusalem, you pay for it. My carefully mapped out route dissolves in a series of one-way streets, dead ends, reversals of direction, until finally with the greatest of relief we arrive at 27 Jabotinsky St.  The ONLY thing we wish to do in Jerusalem is to return the car to the rental agency.  Also, not as simple a task as we had hoped, but that is a story for another time.  Jerusalem is indeed a beautiful city. The British were the first to require that all buildings built in the city be faced with a pale rough limestone known as Jerusalem stone and it really lends a special atmosphere to the city. Most of the Israeli cities we have been in are quite ugly with ungainly buildings made of an unattractive concrete and in commercial areas, covered with really ugly signage. Jerusalem is the polar opposite and at least the neighborhoods we have seen are quite lovely.

                                         A house of Jerusalem stone in our neighborhood

We arrive in Jerusalem at noon on Friday just as the city begins its preparations for Shabbat. We buy a few groceries at the store in our building and head up to the famous Mehane Yehuda Market - not to be confused with the more touristy Ben Yehuda Market (also supposed to be quite entertaining). No falafel places or coffee shops at Mehane Yehuda, just a rabbit’s warren of stalls selling fish, flatbreads, spices of every description, olives, dates, halvah, etc.  The fresh fruit vendors in stalls opposite one another shout out the quality of their goods in an effort to drown out the competition. On a Friday afternoon the narrow passageway between the stalls is jammed with humanity of every aspect. Fair-haired Scandinavian tourists are pushed into Hassids with their black coats and hats, a jumble of languages surround one, vendors offer tastes of Halvah and the whole experience becomes total sensory overload.

That evening we are picked up by Danny, a cousin of Roz’s cousin Ethel (who we had lunch with on our first day in country) who, along with Ethel, takes us back to his house in the Ramot neighborhood (across the valley from the Old City) for dinner. Danny is a confirmed Jerusalemite – proud of his city and eager to show it off to us. We are grateful (no, we are VERY grateful) it is Friday evening and there are almost no cars on the road for Danny loves to suddenly stop whenever he sees a particularly wonderful view.  He also convinces a guard to let us park in the middle of the road so we can get a close look at the Palombo gates at the Knesset. These iron gates were created by the sculpture David Palombo who was killed at age 46 when his motorcycle hit a chain stretched across the road by the ultra-orthodox Jews to prevent others from driving on the Sabbath.

We have a wonderful evening with Danny, his wife Nachoma, his brother and sister-in-law and Ethel. At the end of the evening Danny drives us home, once again stopping wherever the spirit moves him to point out the beautiful sights. Finally, he decides we really should get a quick tour of the Old City and to our amazement drives his car through the Jaffe Gate and down the narrow street past the Armenian Quarter. We navigate tiny back streets, through narrow arches and around tight corners. If you have been in the Old City and are familiar with the crowds of teeming humanity the fill every corner, what you will find most amazing is that while we do this (it is 11 PM) there is not a single human being to be seen. We explore a number of narrow passageways, stopping only so to avoid entering the Jewish Quarter since that is forbidden on Shabbat. It is a truly unique introduction to the Old City, which we intend to visit on foot tomorrow.