A Heap of Jerusalem with a Dash of Chicago
Now that I’m back in Boulder and mostly recovered from jet lag, I need to finish journaling the last two days of our trip.
Friday, we started out a little late in the morning. Our friend Hillary, who took a lot of the photos on the ride and helped with guiding and organizing, is actually a licensed tour guide. Apparently, this is a thing in Israel, the licensing of tour guides. Anyway, after the ride, Hillary was contracted to guide a group from the Jesse White Tumbling Team from Chicago. After checking with them, she allowed us to tag along for part of their tour of the Old City. We thought this would be good, since the Old City is a lot like a living museum with very few explanatory labels on the Very Important Bits. We met up with them by the Damascus Gate in the late morning, from which we intended to proceed to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Interesting fact, Orthodox Easter is not at all the same date as Roman Catholic/Protestant Easter. Yep, it was Good Friday for the Eastern Rite churches, and a decent chunk of the Old City was closed off with crowd control checkpoints. No way to get near the Church with a group of our size. We walked along the city wall to the Jaffa Gate, chatting with Jesse White, the founder of the organization and the current Illinois Secretary of State, some of the troupe members, and their armed guard. That last bit was weird. I assume his presence was thought necessary because Mr. White is a government official, but maybe every tour gets a bodyguard–part of the ambiance of the Middle East.
We went inside the Jaffa Gate for a little shopping. I negotiated extremely badly for a gift for my lovely wife. Properly fleeced, we followed the tumblers to the nearby Mamilla pedestrian mall, which is upscale like Pearl Street in Boulder, with a Crocs store like Pearl Street in Boulder. Here we were able to see the tumblers do a performance in the mall’s little outdoor amphitheater. I couldn’t really follow the action, but by the audience reaction, it was quite the show.
We said good-bye to Hillary and the troupe, and decided to check out Jerusalem’s big, old market hall, Machane Yehuda. On the way, we ran into Cliff, one of the other Ramah riders, and his cousin (it’s a very small country), who were also headed there. I’ve been in a lot of market halls in the US: Emeryville, SF Ferry Building, Quincy Market in Boston, Pike Place in Seattle, and others. They are to Machane Yehuda what EPCOT Center is to international travel. It was hot, crowded, loud and frantic with the approach of Shabbat (we were warned that Friday afternoon could be a little crazy–oh, yeah). We tried coffee flavored halvah. Bought some. Got some of the cheapest and best rugelach I’ve ever had, still warm from the oven. Bought loose tea for Eliana’s souvenir (pomegranate and Bedouin). My kind of place.
Back to the hotel for a little break (more Goldstar!) before Shabbat. I had contacted our friends Rachel and Danny, who lived in Boulder for a few years back in the early aughts, and we were excited to be having Shabbat dinner with them. We met Danny at Shira Hadasha, where they pray, for Kabbalat Shabbat services. The synagogue is Orthodox, in that the men and women are separated, but about as egalitarian as possible within that limitation. As far as I can tell, the only real restriction on female participation there is that they do not lead the required portions of the service. They did lead the kabbalat shabbat psalms, and Danny told us that women read and are called to the Torah during morning services. The service we attended was crowded, lively, and the singing was, frankly, some of the most beautiful I’ve ever heard in shul. It was so good that even I was having an easy time staying in key (I’m pretty sure…no one shushed me, anyway). Nice to see Orthodoxy without misogyny (and with decent musicality).
We walked with Danny back to their apartment, where we were met by Rachel, their two daughters (who are close in age to my kids), and Danny’s mother. Their sons, who were just boys when they lived in Boulder, are now young men out of the house, one away at college, the other a tank commander in the IDF (I was at his bar mitzvah just yesterday, I’m quite sure). Dinner was delicious, and I very much enjoyed the opportunity to catch up with old friends. Can’t wait to get back to Jerusalem to see them again.