Drake and Josh is Lame

Apparently, when it rains in Israel, life pretty much comes to a screeching halt.  Yesterday it rained on and off all day (and when I say all day, I mean beginning at twelve when I lept out of bed after realizing I had slept in to an ungodly hour of the day), and because of this, the Kagan family and I did not go to Jerusalem as planned.  Instead, everyone pretty much curled up in blankets and watched TV/played Wii/slept.  It was as if there was a snowday.  I took a walk around three in the afternoon, knowing that if I didn't I wouldn't leave the house all day.  As I walked around in the light drizzle (about forty degrees Farenheit), where I usually saw streets busy with activity (not unlike the row houses of UK), instead I saw and heard absolutely no one.

Today, however, I set my alarm for nine-thirty in the morning, and the sun was shining.  The boys of the Kagan family were snoring and did not want to wake up, so Amira, Avi, and Roni and I climbed into the car to drive to Jerusalem.

There is something so indescribable about Jerusalem, but I'm going to try to do it anyway.  The first thing that struck me was the smell of the trees.  I don't know if there were any eucalyptis trees around (I wasn't looking), but that was definitely the smell that struck me.  The second thing is the people.  Avi drove the car into a Muslim part of the city and we parked.  We weaved in and out of people selling things, buying things, walking.  There was virtually no Hebrew on any of the signs in this part of the city, and very little English.  Amira had told me about the bread in Jerusalem - a speciality of Jerusalem.  They are called Bageleh in Hebrew and Ka'ak in Arabic.  It's almost as if someone stretched out a bagel.  You eat the bread with za'atar, a Middle Eastern spice.  It is the best thing in the world.

Amira, Avi, Roni, and I sat on the steps of the Yafo gate of the Old City eating the bageleh.  Small Muslim children were coming out of the Old City with backpacks on.  While the Israeli workweek begins on a Sunday and ends on a Friday afternoon, the Muslim workweek in Israel begins on a Saturday and ends on a Thursday afternoon, as Fridays are the holy days for Muslims.

When we entered the old city, the Hebrew word "balagan" entered my mind.  "Balagan" means both a mess and craziness.  It was packed.  Everywhere around us people were shouting out in Arabic and in Hebrew about the goods they were selling which was everything from strawberries to purses to phones to eggplants to watches to spices.  We weaved in and out of people, men shoving around carts of stuff that almost hit Roni several times, animals, rotten vegetables on the pathway, everything.  It's a very fascinating anthropological place to be.  It was interesting to see the way different Arabs dressed.  Some were dressed very religiously, and others were not.  I saw many girls wearing tight dresses with leggings, knee-high leather boots, provocative make-up, and sparkling hijabs.  Other girls wore all black.  Some men wore heavy religious robes, others dressed like many of the Israeli men I see - tight jeans, sports shirts, Puma shoes.

When we got through the main market, we reached the smaller avenues with shops.  Here it was much quieter (and smelled nicer).  I bought several chamsas (the hand shaped pendants, some of them with the eyes in the palm) for myself and for my friends, and an Armenian kiddush cup.  All around me I heard an plethora amount of languages, from Portuguese (there were a lot of Brazilians there) to Russian to Arabic to English to French.  I also SUCCESFULLY BARGAINED.  I bargained!  Me!  ME!  I hate bargaining so much.  SO. MUCH.  I always feel really terrible.  But this one guy just made it easy - he said he was selling the chamsa (the teeny tiny chamsa, might I add) for fifteen shekels.  I put it down and said no thank you, I wasn't interested.  I wasn't at that point.  Then he offered it for less money.  I asked him how much.  He said thirteen.  I said no thank you.  He said ten.  I said thank you.  MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Avi, Amira, and Roni and I also went to the Cotel, the Wailing Wall.  I had a note to put in the wall from my Hebrew class that I taught (it was the most adorable note I've ever read).  The last time I was in the Cotel, I was overwhelmed with the incredible spirit in the place.  It was two and a half years ago, and my group had arrived just as the sun was setting, so we didn't have a lot of time to be there before getting back on our bus and getting out of the Old City as the sun went down.  When I reached the Cotel, I put my note in the wall and just put my head up against the wall.  It was really warm from the sun.  I just kept my forehead there for a while.  I was really moved then.

Today, however, I didn't really feel the same way.  I found myself more moved by watching all the women around me praying, having their spiritual moments.  Maybe it's my teenage skepticism or maybe I've just changed, but I found myself more moved by a piece of jewelry with a prayer inscribed on it than I did with my own personal moment at the Wall.  It seems to me that I am more moved spiritually by people, and not by religion.

After the Cotel, we ate in a great and crowded falafel restaurant and then drove home.  I was really happy, as I had done something that day.  I feel that even though I'm technically doing work for La Escuelita, I'm not really doing a whole lot.  I also feel as if this is the calm before not having a spare moment to myself living in the commune with Sadaka-Reut.

Now I am sitting in the Kagan's livingroom as Roni and her friend are playing Wii (at the beginning of this blogpost Roni was watching Drake and Josh).  Tomorrow I am taking the train back to Tel Aviv and meeting with Hana, my mentor for Sadaka-Reut, to discuss what my internship with them is going to look like.  I am excited for getting up at an hour that is not twelve thirty or one and feeling like a productive member of society!  I am still struggling with how I feel about being alone for such a large majority of my Walkabout, but I realize that this is good learning experience.  In a lame kind of way, I figure this is building character or something equally as corny.

Pictures of Jerusalem tomorrow when I get back to my computer!