So there’s this city? Some people think it’s pretty holy or something.

Jerusalem!! Wooo!!

Yeah, you don’t really think of the center of three major world religions being a party capital, but the Jerusalemites do it up for Purim.

Our group had an organized group tour on Tuesday, so a few of us – Alli, Alex, Spenser, Sumiko, and I – went on Monday to see what Shushan Purim was all about.  Another very quick history lesson: Purim begins at sundown on the previous secular day. In cities that were protected by a surrounding wall at the time of Joshua, such as Jerusalem, Purim is celebrated on the 15th of the month, known as Shushan Purim (Wikipedia, what would I do without you?)

So, as there are lots of religious folk who live in Jerusalem, you can guess who was doing most of the partying.

We took a sherut from Tel Aviv, which is a shared taxi that fits about seven or eight people (not to be confused with shrutim, which is Hebrew for bathroom). It’s about an hour ride, give or take, and gives you incredible views of forests and old city areas before you enter the really old city. As we reached the city and stepped off into the big main shuk (big outdoor market), we realized that we had absolutely no plans for the day and no idea where to go. So after wandering thr0ugh the shuk for a bit and picking at some lovely baked goods (mmm, hamentaschen…) we did what anyone in Jerusalem with no real plans would do: headed for the Old City.

IDF soldiers sitting amongst ancient ruins

Heading down towards the Western Wall

You wander around through tiny streets and amongst really, really old shit that your mind can’t even quite process as being as old as it all is, and navigate shop vendors trying to push pretty jewelry, Jesus shoes, and IDF t-shirts on you, and you walk down this stairway and turn a corner and it literally takes your breath away.

Western Wall and Dome of the Rock

One of my travel buddies cried at the sight. I didn’t, ’cause that’s not my style (ha) but I literally gasped out loud, even though I’ve seen it before. It seems as if I must make some kind of distinctly audible sound of appreciation every time I come upon this sight.

Not just the Wall, which is an impressive and humbling sight in its own right, but the Dome of the Rock is just insane to see in person.

We didn’t linger too long around here, though we stay long enough for me to take a couple hundred pictures

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So, upon finally dragging me and my camera away, we headed in what would ultimately turn out to be a vain search for some kind of festivities going on in a park somewhere – which was just as vague a description we had of it as we went off looking – and along the way Alli and I stopped at a cemetery just outside of the old city where Oskar Shindler is buried.

When visiting graves Jewish custom is to leave a stone on the gravestone – to show that you’ve been there is my basic understanding of it, but I’ve read that the real explanation is to indicate one’s participation in the mitzvah of erecting a tombstone, even if only in a symbolic way. And I’d read that so many people come so frequently to Shindler’s grave that it’s always covered with stones, so it only took us a few minutes to spot it.

Another humbling sight

Having seen the Old City and Shindler’s grave and not finding this supposed festival in the park, we ditched Sumiko since she was the one who took us on this goose chase to the park (actually she left us to hang with her sister, but she was really the one who took us looking for this festival) and went to have lunch at Aroma, Israel’s Starbucks (but way the hell better – the food is made to order rather than sitting around all day getting stale, and the hot chocolate actually tastes like chocolate) overlooking the Old City.

That's my sandwich, in case you didn't believe me

We lingered around there for a while and I read some ridiculous emails from Jen back in NYC (I’ll just say Nathan’s last night and leave it at that) and debated what to do, when finally someone threw out the idea of going to walk through Mea Shearim, one of the most religious neighborhoods in Jerusalem. It can, in fact, be a bit of a dangerous area for outsiders to travel through (BPo, this one’s for you!), as they take their Torah seriously, and unlike most other sects of Judaism, who have a rather live-and-let-live attitude towards the many different ways to be Jewish or not Jewish or whatever, the peeps of Mea Shearim are pretty ardent about their practices and do not wish to be offended by visitors and their kneecaps/shoulders.

Signs posted in and around the neighborhood

I’m told that generally men and women walk on opposite sides of the street, men won’t touch or talk to you unless it’s to shout at you to get out, and should you “dress immodestly” (ie, show too much skin, especially as a woman, or wear pants as a woman, rather than a skirt or dress) or blatantly take pictures or video or in some other way disturb the peace there you could have things thrown at you – stones, water bottles, dirty diapers (no joke, this is apparently what they throw at tour buses that come through).

Sounds like a party, right?

Actually, it was. Yay, Purim! I think as a result, our trip through Mea Shearim was different than most, but even so, we donned our modest dress (which was our pashmina scarves wrapped around our jeans as makeshift skirts, which went fabulously with the hiking boots and raincoat I was wearing) and ventured down streets reminiscent of an Eastern European shtetl.

Alex rocking her modest dress

On this day, men were mixing with women, families were out together in larger groups, everyone off somewhere for a party or on their way back from one. Saw a few scuffles, prompted mainly by brash photographers getting in people’s faces with very large cameras (which, stone-throwing locals or no, seems pretty rude) and helped not by the extreme drunkenness of most of the Hasidic men wandering the streets. I spotted the photographer later with splatters of something (I’m assuming garbage) down his clothing. But mostly we were ignored as we tiptoed through the narrow streets and watched men hugging jovially and swerving around (seriously, they were very, very drunk, everyone).

I want to be diplomatic when speaking of Mea Shearim and not give too much away about my feelings on their treatment of women (which I have great issue with), amongst other things, but there are some aspects of this neighborhood which are basic fact: there is a truly amazing amount of garbage everywhere; in the streets, in the gutters, spilling over from garbage cans that look like they haven’t been emptied in weeks, on doorsteps, on sidewalks, etc etc. There are many kids wandering about, some with parents, some without, almost to the point where it made me nervous (such as a group playing on a balcony ledge with no adult in sight). The whole neighborhood has the feel of a poverty-stricken inner city, with crowded, run-down buildings and sewage running through the streets.

All of that said, I think we picked a good day to go, because, as I said, the people were happy and lively, some in costume

Oddly, Santa is a popular Purim costum for children and adults

Interestingly enough, the street parties here quite resembled those in Tel Aviv. The only difference was the lack of Lady Gaga costumes

So, all in all, an interesting venture into a very, very different culture – almost felt a bit like stepping back in time – and I’d like to check it out again (but next time I’ll bring a skirt with me).

Also, one more time, because I mean it: drunk.

Our day began to wind down after that. Exhaustion led to bickering led to more exhaustion led to flopping down in a heap at Aroma (like I said, great hot chocolate) and having a debate about hostels to spend the night at that lasted way longer than it should have. Alex opted to make the (hour) long trip back home instead of joining the argument over hostels, and Spenser, Alli, and I ultimately settled on two places in the Jewish Quarter of the Old City – two places because they were religious hostels and each gender has its own place (25 sheks per night! a bargain despite the oddness of it all). So after nearly falling asleep over some pizza, we bid Spenser goodnight and went off to find our cave hovel hobbit hole hostel, with a door so short and stuck in the middle of a wall that we walked past it about three times before finding it.

Alli, pooped out from our travels back through time today, fell asleep pretty quickly, while I went out to try and accomplish several things: call home, call Jen, make some sense out of the craziness that went on that night at Next Door, get Alli some Advil, meet up with Spenser and another girl from our program, Jackie, who apparently were partying with some (druuuuuuuunk) Hasidic teenagers passing out free alcohol. Unfortunately, I only made two and a half of those things happen, as my stupid phone ran out of battery and I got hopelessly lost in the Old City and eventually ended up by the Western Wall, which was just as amazing a sight at night as during the day (especially with even more drunken celebration around it, which I don’t think happens down there often).

So after spending a bit of quiet reflection time looking at the Wall, and spending some time getting lost again, I wandered back to the burrow hostel and managed to get some shuteye in between lots of chatty girls and Ali’s shushing of said chatty girls.

And I would continue into Day 2 of Jerusalem, but I’m pretty tired and want to finally post this because it’s been sitting here half-finished for days and I’m getting very behind on my posting. So hopefully tomorrow (ha) I’ll follow this one up, but I’ll give you a preview: Caves! Temples! Jesus! It’ll be great.

Also I’ll take this opportunity to point those of you haven’t been yet to Rickshaw USA: to http://rickshawusa.blogspot.com/ Sean and Cooper are biking across the US on a rickshaw built for two and doing lots of interesting things, meeting cool people, and blogging far more frequently than I, so check them out. They may be coming to a state near you!