Jerusalem Yom Shishi & Erev Shabbat

Going to Jerusalem I completely indulged myself. I took a taxi. Nothing like door-to-door service to make me feel like a princess.

I’m traveling here to see my friends from Toronto. A couple that got married and two days later came to Jerusalem to study.

Arriving, something unexpected is happening. I feel a wave of emotion. Not because I'm in the "Holy Land"

It's if my soul is grounded in perfect alignment with mind and body. As if in another life I was a Jewish man. Yiddish Nefesh is the perfect expression. It means Jewish soul It is the ultimate affirmation that the path I’ve been and my as my Jewish identity has been with me my entire life.

I check into the hotel close to the old city, with only a few hours to wander around. The main attraction The Western Wall (Kotel) and simply being in the oldest urban environment I’ve ever experienced.

On my way I stop in a store. I’ve been meaning to buy a ring.

The man of Arabic background, a bit overweight, is helping me. Suddenly he asks me. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, I'm single."

"Why not??"

It's Jerusalem, not Tel Aviv, "I guess I just like it that way."

Later on in our discussion he then asks me to go for coffee. "Please, I invite you for a coffee, no business."

I respond telling that I do not have much time (which is true and I just arrived). He still keeps asking, "We go now."

"No I can't, I have a very limited time here, and I have to meet my friends in a few hours."

What is this really about? If he’d been hot, I might have gone for the coffee.

The Old City right before Erev Shabbat (Shabbat evening) is intense. The local ultra-religious are out in droves preparing. Not to mention all the tourists. Even I’m sick of them. So many tours from countries all over the world, even the odd guy dressed in what would look like a Jesuit costume from the 1500s walks by.

The market is the most incredible one I've ever seen. It is a spider-web of old very narrow streets lined with vendors as far at the can see. Soon I leave as there is nothing I want to buy, and I’m getting claustrophobic 

It is a mitzvah – duty, commandment to give to charity (tzedakah) just before Shabbat begins at sun down I give some tzedakah to a man from Chabad, a group that I know. But then ultra-orthodox men keep asking me. They use the mitzvah guilt. I’m shocked at the way they ask. It’s more like a demand. And the amount! Not a couple bucks, more like 20 to 25 dollars.

I gave twice more, but not what they were asking, 50 to 100 Shekels. My ride from the airport was 147 Shekels to put in perspective. These men are starting to feel oppressive. I start to resent them. I’m writing my journal quietly and I’m interrupted yet again.

It’s the sense of entitlement when they choose to be orthodox, have 10 kids, and then expects everyone one else to support them. Welcome to the struggles of Israel with their Haredi Jew question.

Finally I make it to the Kotal. I'm fixated to getting to the wall. Without thinking I just walk into the first entrance. A woman starts following me. I think she is asking me for money. She looks kind of grubby all dressed in grey with a grey scarf on her head. I look at her thinking, "Go away will you."

I continue, she turns into a crazy woman. Her eyes are wild and she is screaming. The image will be forever etched into my head. If you could imagine take a photo of a woman screaming just after a bomb went off, you got the picture. Suddenly I am thrust into a Time magazine "photo of the week"

"Will someone please intervene here." floats through my conscience while I’m trying to integrate all that is happening.  A "nice" English speaking woman tells me I'm entering the woman's only partition of the wall.

Fuck I feel really stupid now. However, apparently this happens more often that I thought, and I’m not the only one.

This image is from a Tel Aviv Beit Tefila, Kabbalat Shabbat on the beach

It is now time for me to get back to the hotel, shower and change for my next destination. I’m heading out to meet my friends for this musical Kabbalat Shabbat service that is very unique. Nava Tehila meets monthly and is a very cool eclectic kind of like hippy-Jews both young and old alike. There is even a nun dressed in white a brown almost looking from a medieval movie. I see a harp, several acoustic guitars, percussion, and saxophone in the inner circle of chairs.

My friend greets me as soon as I come in. “Find a seat, and we’ll join you after.”

We get started. The chanting it feels as if I’m being cleansed form the obsessions, the fears, the worries, and whatever keeps me entrapped in negativity. Slowly the large air-conditioned basement fills up with well over 100 people.

In a personal reflection moment, I think about how shy I was to enter the Jewish community, and look at me not too much later. I’m full of confidence, using Hebrew only handouts and taking it all in. It’s far cry from that day I walked into my Synagogue and talked to my Rabbi about conversion.

We then head over to my friend’s friend who kindly invited to her place for Shabbat dinner. Ruthie, in her 60s, and always looking for an adventure, I admire her. The guests were in their 20s to 60s. How refreshing.

Hours were spent chatting about everything from Rob Ford to Monty Python. Everyone is super welcoming. Here we are not strangers, just people who just need to get to know each other better. Ironically, this is the most time I’ve spent with the Toronto couple, than in Toronto.

The only problem was that there was only wine to drink. I did not think to bring a bottle of water. The host has nothing non-alcoholic and offers me water. I'm so thirsty I drink a couple small glasses in a row. Later on the penny drops, "FUCK THAT IS NOT BOTTLED WATER." 

Drinking tap water is a shitty thing to do - there's a pun in there. In the middle of the night the games began. I can only hope it's not major.

This morning the same taxi driver came and picked me up. Again I feel like a princess. What a whirlwind 24 hours.