Eco 7: Zionists, Green Freaks and Hasidic Hippies

12/9: I woke early, had a private breakfast and hit the streets. I took the time in the Tower of David museum to get some basic history, always useful. I covered enough ground to visit all four souks (one in each quarter) and get ripped off in only one of them. Note: Shifty Arab trader is redundant; unless you know what you're doing (or are an attractive, young female) you will find everything you want in the souk except a bargain. The Church of the Holy Sepulcher is jaw dropping, even when it's so loud with tourists you can't hear yourself think. It's not just the age of the place, or the size, or the attention to detail. It's a combination of many things, some visible and some not, that makes it what it is; even though it doesn't have much of the usual Roman Catholic Smattering o' Wealth Opulence décor. There may be a lot of large religious buildings in the world, but there's just something to a cathedral that makes it extra grand. I managed to latch onto a tour group and followed them for a good two hours around the main sights. The guide didn't mind and even seemed flattered by the attention. Note: When playing tourist here, get a guide! The history in this place is too dense to get from a guidebook. I got back to the House, borrowed a book from the library and crashed for the rest of the afternoon. Officially, it's a free religious hostel for Jewish youth; actually, it's more like a frat house (there's a separate one for girls). There are regulars who stay there every weekend for a year, students who live there, soldiers or pilgrims like me who just need a bed for the night and the staff who are nearly indistinguishable from the rest. It's a very chaotic place with almost no written rules, oversight or management and filled to the gills with interesting folk of all stripes. Another service they do is place people with religious families for meals on Shabbat. Being there is a memorable experience which I highly recommend. Around dusk a crowd of us went down to the Kotel (the courtyard in front of the Western Wall) and prayed on Shabbat eve. Normally the courtyard is quiet and rarely full, but not then. There must have been several thousand Jews there: paratroopers, Hasidim of all stripes, tourists, school groups, yeshiva boys; all praying, mingling and spontaneously bursting into circle dancing and song. Eventually, I was placed in a house with thirty other guests for dinner, with the guy on my right being from Santa Rosa, of all places. The food was excellent with interesting conversation. Most men studying in yeshivas are from New York City or Los Angeles, so language is rarely a problem. I see now that modern Jerusalem isn't a study in contradiction, it's just the latest face of a city that has been destroyed and rebuilt more times than any other. There's a tangible magic in the air and stones here, where strange coincidences and acts of providence are commonplace...No one who spends time here comes away unchanged. 12/10: My breakfast was composed of leftovers from the dinner at the House (mostly junk food, nuts and soda) punctuated with reading and conversation. Jerusalem is a tourist city which keeps tourist hours (nine to five) and is one of the most observant places in the country; the Sabbath is kept with vigor. I read until lunchtime when I was placed with an ultra-orthodox rabbi. He wasn't too bad, and was actually from Sebastopol, but his wife was something else. In her first appearance she implored people that this is a good Shabbis table, the boys will not talk with the girls, only eighteen days till the closing of the gates (the end of Hanukkah), etc. There wasn't much conversation, the servings were small and we were preached at/proselytized through the entire meal. I managed to distract her with a description of permaculture, but then was subjected to a very long lecture on the Hebrew astrological meaning of my birthday and Bar Mitsvah date. It was good to get out of that place, it was very creepy. I'm tempted to make generalizations, but it's a dangerous thing to do here. There are dozens of sub-sects in the ultra-orthodox community alone. I went back to the House and finished my book in time for dinner in the common room. It was starting to resemble a scene from Animal House when the Rabbi guest speaker came in and quieted the place. His oratory was superb and touched on the nature of man, the past and future of the Jewish people and our responsibility to the same, the roots of persecution and our special role as the keepers of soul, morality and conscience for the rest of mankind. He especially emphasized the importance of Torah as the definition and guide of Judaism. The evening ended with much singing and revelry. I grabbed some leftovers and tried to make the bus early, but was waiting on the wrong side of the street and missed it twice. I finally gave up and went back to the House, meeting Benjamin who had just gotten back from some other religious community where he had spent the weekend. My finds were easy to pack: a green knit yamaka I found in the Kotel, a Kabbalic hand and eye from the lost and found shelf at the House and a Muslim prayer rug I jacked from a church rooftop in the Christian quarter (I offended three major religions at once for a throw rug, I wonder how many sins that was...) Not a bad haul, but the yamaka deserves mention. I had been looking for a small, green, knit yamaka ever since I got here. I sit down on the sidewalk in the Kotel, look over and hey, there it is, right under my hand! There are some things that could only happen here.