Day Six: "City of Gold" - Blue Fringe
Rockets, chess, and schnitzel challah
On Friday night, it still hasn’t really bit me what was happening around me. Yes, I had heard a siren for the first time in my life and yes, I could see my Twitter feed filling with videos and general observations about the war. But at that point, I didn’t understand the extend of it all. I still harbored some hope that I could get on a flight sometime soon and continue my European adventures.
How wrong I was…
As Shabbat came in, I hit the streets hoping to find a minyan. The streets were empty. I am staying around the shuk area and normally, at the onset of shabbat you can see throngs of people making their way up rechov Yaffa enroute to the Old City. No such crowds that evening.
I found a young Lubavitcher who led me to Mayanot—one of the few places with a minyan that evening—and I checked out the new building and davened Maariv. Nothing particularly eventful. Then, on the way to my aunt and uncle’s house for the meal, I heard the siren.
Well, I had no idea what to do. I didn’t know where the nearest shelter was and the few people on the streets around me seemed nonplussed. So, I continued on my merry way, quickening the pace to Ramban St.
When I arrived there, it was like the scene of a horror movie. A picturesque table was set in the courtyard, with a beautiful blue and white tablecloth, an homage to the country that was hosting us for this evening.
Only the table was empty. Not a soul in sight. There were two challahs set out, untouched, and a cup of wine that had a sip taken from it. Otherwise, it was quiet.
I didn’t know exactly what to do and headed around the corner to find whatever shelter they were at. I found a synagogue and went to its basement which seemed pretty safe (I filed that away for later) and when I saw no one there I returned to the desolate table.
There was a little outdoor couch beckoning to me and I lay down on it, enjoying a nice foot up moment after a long day.
Within minutes I saw a light flash across the sky above me. A shooting star! I thought to myself. Then the star was followed by another and another and then another. It was quite beautiful. I promptly fell asleep. The next thing I remember was being awoken by my two cousins who had run back to the villa to get the challahs and taken around the corner to the shelter.
Ah! There they were! It didn’t take long for word to reach us that the immediate danger had passed, and we decided to go ahead with the shabbat meal. It was a nice affair, especially considering the circumstances.
The meal passed without note and soon enough I was heading home in the wee hours of the morning. When me and my cousin who’s staying with me reached the building, there was one small problem. It was locked. The only way we could see to get in was the electronic pin pad.
As I have mentioned already a few times, the streets in these times are quite desolate. Also, it’s Israel. You can’t just ask anyone to help you out with your muktzah tasks. Thank G-d, an Arab taxi driver was nearby, and my cousin asked for his assistance. He saved the day.
Within minutes of disrobing and getting into bed, the sirens sounded again.
We made our way down the stairs to the shelter and were met with a scene out of an Israeli soap opera.
There was the man with silvery hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and his black dog. He spoke—and looked—like he had lived a life worth living. His wife/spouse/current partner was more reserved, while he cracked joke after joke. Their dog was not very happy to be there.
The shelter quickly filled with all kinds of characters—most of them with dogs. There was the quintessential looking Israeli woman from apartment 203, wearing a headscarf and dressed rather modestly. The only problem was that she was calmly scrolling through Facebook the whole time. There was a young woman with a big dog, a fit Israeli looking guy with a larger partner who had a tiny dog, its hair made up in a ponytail. There was a young family and there was an elderly man who calmly switched from his slippers to shoes when he made it down the stairs with his walker.
All in all, it was an experience. No one was too freaked out and the ordeal passed with minimal disturbance.
After that I returned to bed and the rest of the night passed by without incident. I woke up at around 11, immediately hit the streets and went in search of my cousin's shul. I found it after a little while and enjoyed an interesting conversation with a colleague before hearing from another interesting fella about how easy it is to convert to Judaism. He seemed to know what he was talking about. Then, in walked a young man—with grey-streaked hair—with a parrot on his shoulder and a marijuana joint threaded on a string and through his ear. Enough said on that.
After that I met up with a friend and then headed to my cousins for the meal. Turns out I was quite late and instead enjoyed an afternoon of some chess, ping-pong and whatever else Americans do when trying to be Israelis for a shabbat.
At the close of shabbos, we davened mincha where I got to hear the bar mitzvah boy lein (he did a magnificent job) and I then went in search of my father’s cousin who had just moved to the Holy Land. After a short search, I found him, deeply engrossed in a sefer and I shattered the peace by interrupting him. He didn’t seem to mind too much and we enjoyed a lovely conversation about the family.
I then went home, turned on my phone, showered and got ready for a night on the town.
Little did I know…
I went outside and was greeted again by not the hustle and bustle I expect from a motzei shabbat in Jerusalem, but rather a quiet, desolate scene.
Thank G-d I bumped into an old friend from Australia who introduced me to his German buddy and a Satmar/Boyaner friend. We went to their apartment and shared a few packs of bamba. The Satmar/Boyaner friend then challenged me to a game of chess. We spent the next hour or so trading blows (final score Waylen 4 - Satmar/Boyaner chosid 2 - with 2 draws). It was good fun. He was a true kamikaze with his Queen, shattering my defenses early and putting me on the backfoot each time. I did however beat him more often than not.
We stepped outside and saw that the moon was blood red and saw a few rockets arcing across the sky.
Then two guys from England came and we exchanged stories of our being stuck in the Holy Land. One of them—here to celebrate his brother’s wedding—put things into perspective nicely by saying that it's a privilege to be where the Aibishter puts us. The other, a Satmar chosid, took down my Chess.com details and promised to send me a challenge in the coming days.
We then left the apartment, got some food (challah schnitzel 6/10) and went in search of some action. I gave up pretty quickly and headed home but the other three stayed on. I hope their search wasn’t long.
When I got home, my phone started blaring with the various rocket attacks happening across Israel and it wasn’t long before we in Jerusalem got our own alert.
Me and my cousin headed down again to the shelter and reconvened with our apartment buddies from the night previously.
The danger soon passed, and I was back in bed, ready for another day in the Holy Land. By this stage I know that it probably won’t be simple getting out of here so i’m buckling in for the action. Thanks for joining me for a recap of day 6. See you tomorrow!
Chalati has the best challah schnitzel
Poor Waylen just can’t catch a break!