Sun rising over Jerusalem
Jerusalem Day 8 / Saturday 3rd August 2019
Shops close around 3 in the afternoon on Friday in preparation for Shabbat. Shabbat begins at sunset on Friday and ends with sunset Saturday. I noticed that Thursday night in Jerusalem felt like Friday night in the UK and Friday felt like Saturday.
The only time I have seen the UK become so quiet is Christmas day, here it happens once a week, no buses, no trams, no trains.
The hostel laid on for a small price a spectacular Shabbat meal. Around 50 of us gathered to eat. I had been rising at 6 am and seeing my bed around midnight since being here, it was catching up with me so much so I had to excuse myself and go to bed at around 9.
I awoke about 4 in the morning and decided I would like to see the sunrise over Jerusalem.
The streets were empty except for devote Jews going to the Wailing Wall or synagogue to pray. There were a few Police Officers around and stragglers from Clubs.
I found my way to the Wailing Wall there were already a couple of hundred people before me. It was then I noticed ‘the bridge’. The bridge into the Temple Mound. It was suspended in the air. This was a rickety wooden bridge which appeared to be mobile. I was too early for it but when I return (am I returning?) I will now know where it is.
Satisfied I made my way back to the hostel for breakfast. I noticed as I walked two young Jewish men lurking at either side of the entrance to an alley. My Northern Irish mind arose, “Am I where I shouldn’t be? Is this out of bounds for non-Jewish people on Shabbat?” I felt apprehensive. “Excuse me where are you from?” I had heard this question many times on this trip and it evoked a different feeling each time. Right now I am thinking, “Why?” But I could do no other than say, “England”. ‘England’ I am not sure I have ever answered with ‘England’. I have lived here for 26 years so I have come from England to Jerusalem but usually, I still say ‘Northern Ireland’.
“Could you do us a favour?”
“It depends what it is?”
“We need your help with the air conditioning.”
A conversation comes to mind from yesterday evening when Daniel, from Sweden, told me he often found himself lighting cigarettes for Orthodox Jews on Shabbat. It is considered work to make fire and hence forbidden on Shabbat.
“Ok,” I say.
“Come with us.”
As I walk to their quarters the notion of being kidnapped crosses my mind, I dismiss it.
They show me the unit and ask me to press it up and down until the temperature is where they want it. They escort me back to where I met them.
I walked on more cheerfully having entered a world I hadn’t before and playing with the idea that our religion can become so restrictive than we need someone not bound by it to help us.
On my return to the hostel I eat, check out and wait for the Sherut to collect me to take me to the Airport. I am bemused by a fellow traveller from China who is getting anxious about getting to the Airport. This guy travels the world yet the commonest of our humanity surfaces in anxiety.
Farewell Jerusalem I don’t think life will ever be the same.
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