Old City

You can feel the tension between between the Muslims and Jews in the Old City of Jerusalem. There are IDF members with automatic weapons everywhere. Regularly you see IDF or police questioning Arab men. The first time I walked up to the Jaffa gate - the main gate through the stone walls into the ancient quarters of the city – policemen were questioning two young men who were face down on the stone road tiles, plastic ties cuffing their hands behind their backs. And most of the Old City Arabs and Muslims seem to be appraising everyone who was not them. I suppose I was too.

Most of the tourists walking through the Old City are in large groups. Like pilgrims. Some groups are even singing Christian hymns as they walk down past the Stations of the Cross on the Via Dolorosa. The Arabs and Muslims hawk them religious souvenirs outside the souks, and cheap goods inside the souks.

Many of the people living in the Old City are Orthodox Jews. To my eyes, unaccustomed to seeing so many of them, they seemed strange indeed. But in my ignorance, I grew to appreciate the galaxy of Orthodox gear and fashion. All the slightly different outsized hats, the earlocks from small and elaborate, the bits of string that I guess signify good works (I am indeed ignorant here…) It took me a while to realize it, but one thing that really got to me was that Orthodox Jews won’t look at me, or other non Ortho-folk. Especially the men. The woman and children would sometimes look at you, but only out of the corner of their eye, and when they thought you weren’t looking. (I break here to apologize in advance to any Orthodox Jews reading this out there that I might someday befriend, hire, or have sex with.) I’m afraid I really judged this behavior harshly, and perhaps unfairly. But, I wanted to challenge this. So for a few minutes I conducted an experiment** with random Orthodox men. I began aiming myself at them while we were walking past each other on the street, arranging near collision courses with them while looking into their faces. I was only bold enough to finally get to a shoulder bump with a couple. But none of them ever looked at me…

At the end of my hard day in the Old City, I took the recommended walk on top of the city walls – the “Ramparts Walk.” Looking into the ancient quarters, it occurred to me that while the passions of religion and violence of Rome are safely in the past, but the people of Israel and especially in the Old City of Jerusalem are still living them, are still living their divisions, still defining themselves in a way to separate from others. A truth that made me feel uncomfortable, because it meant that my enjoyment of a place like Rome was truly that of a tourist, a traveling dilettante.

But I also realized that if I came on this trip in part to try and connect with people, this isn’t the place I will be able to do it. Between the intense religiosity of the place and the tension between the different peoples, the emotional climate is too chilly in this hot and dusty place.

I resolved to quit the Old City of Jerusalem after this one day, and try the New.




**this experiment was inspired by a non-fiction essay I read earlier this year about a Western traveler’s trip to sub-Saharan Africa