Today was a serious day. There were plenty of pockets of fun, but today was about the trip to one of the holiest sites in the world, the Wailing Wall of Jerusalem.
Upon reaching the Wall I sang Pink Floyd’s “Another brick in the wall,” yelling, “Leave those kids alone! Then I sang “Screaming at the Wailing Wall by Flogging Molly.”
No, not really. International incidents are not my thing.
In news unrelated to the Wall, upon walking into my hotel in Jerusalem, the big flat screen in the lobby was turned to Fox News.
Finally! Given that CNN has further global reach than Fox News due to obvious political biases, it was a pleasure to see Fox News. While this could have been a coincidence, I suspect that this was deliberate. As delightful as Arab Christine Amanpour is on Jewish issues everywhere, the network with the Pro-Israel bent should be the network of choice in Israel, especially Jerusalem.
I managed to get a picture of myself with world flags on one side of me and Fox News on the other. The real reason I did that is because by coincidence, my friend Jonathan Hoenig, aka the Capitalist Pig, was on tv.
Fox News also announced that we lost another talented American, in this case Isaac Hayes. He was the voice behind “Shaft,” as well as “Chef” on South Park. He left us at 65, too soon.
In Olympic news, an Iranian athlete refused to compete against an Israeli athlete. I am sure the Israeli athlete would have kicked rumpus anyway.
I also learned today that the only thing scarier than an Arab terrorist is an aggressive cab driver. Whether Israeli or Arabic, they are relentless. The guy was not rude, but hours after he dropped us off, he saw me and the Chicago Cannonball and said, “Mr. Los Angeles, Ms. Chicago, I am at your service tomorrow. Only 250 shekels.” I heard it many times in his cab.
Whether Tel Aviv or Jerusalem, the service industry in general is lacking. Customer service is an oxymoron. However, most cab drivers, while pushy for more business, get the job done at a reasonable price.
In food news, I debated whether or not to order an Arabic salad. That way I could repeatedly stab it with a fork. I would drown it in unhealthy dressing and violently stab at it, one fork jab for every Jew murdered during the intifada.
Actually, I was just hungry. I asked the waitress what the difference was between an Israeli salad and an Arabic salad. She told me, “nothing.”
Then I got the idea of salad for peace. I, as a proud Jew and son of a Holocaust survivor, could eat an Arabic salad in the name of peace. In the background would be the Beatles singing, “Come together, right now, over me.”
Nevertheless, the lure of trying a veal burger was too strong, and my salad for peace movement collapsed under the bloodlust for meat. The burger was average, but the potatos were outstanding.
Yet Jerusalem is a serious city. There is a Jewish Quarter and a Muslim Quarter. The Christian and Armenian round out the square. Yes, I did just try to round out a square. The cab driver that took us from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem stopped 90% of the way through the cab ride. Going to our hotel apparently required going through the Muslim Quarter. How incredibly comforting.
The Chicago Cannonball and I got in a second cab, as I prayed not to die. No, I do not think all Muslims are terrorists, but I knew nothing about the Muslim Quarter, and perhaps it might be inciting trouble to go into “their” quarter.
Nevertheless, there were plenty of Jews in the area, and we checked in, and then headed for the Western Wall.
The way to the Western Wall goes through the Damascus Gate. There is plenty of shopping there, as Jews and Arab Muslims compete to see who can sell the most useless merchandise. Actually, there were some cool t-shirts, from the poignant to the delightfully offensive. I also saw sports t-shirts mixing English and Hebrew. They had the Dallas Cowboys and Philadelphia Eagles. The store owner had heard of the Oakland Raiders, but did not have one. He might be getting one. I hope so.
The Western Wall is one of the most meaningful places on Earth for Jews everywhere. I went to the wall, placed my hand on it, said a Jewish prayer known as “The Shema.” “Here O’ Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One.” I had a list of names of people that asked me to pray for them and others, and read every name on the list.
I made my request of God. If it gets released to to media I will get quite salty. I placed my folded note to God in the Wall and added another prayer. I then found the on site Chabad House, and told them that I “Thank God for Chabad.” I live in Los Angeles within walking distance of the global headquarters of Chabad, but to see this was special.
In Jerusalem near the Wall are synagogues, churches and mosques. I took pictures in front of all of them. The Arabs I encountered were not friendly or unfriendly. They were not in any way mean. They simply had different business than I did, and respectfully went about their business as I did mine. In all honesty, in some cases I could not tell if the person was Israeli or Arab.
As for the merchants, they just wanted business as any merchant would. Yet one Jewish merchant insisted on kissing me on the cheek as a member of the tribe. This was right before attempting to overcharge us for a long skirt so that the Chicago Cannonball could look ladylike at the Wall. She is a tough negotiator, and got her price.
My rule of thumb is that if the merchant is Jewish, haggle with him. If the merchant is an Arab, just pay them. I know I may be getting fleeced, but I do not want to come across as a cheap Jew. The stereotype bothers me enough that I would rather get bilked.
During dinner at an exotic hotel adjacent to ours, the sounds of “Allah Akbar” at a mosque were overheard, and it sounded…peaceful. I was thrilled to hear Islam the way it is supposed to be heard. I did not feel threatened.
I posed for a picture in frnt of a Palestinian pottery place, because when I think of Palestinians, I think of beautiful things being built such as pottery. Over the years I will tell my friends that I went to the Gaza Strip, declared peace in our time, and the Palestinians put down their arms and we all made pottery. The truth is I was in the Jewish area of Jerusalem, where Palestinians can operate a shop in peace. I want every peaceful person in this world to have this right, and hope that young Palestinians see that their own lot will improve when they can look me in the eye and see humanity.
I m trying very hard on this trip to separate the good Palestinians from the bad ones, but they do not ake it easy. I rarely let my politics interfere with other apsects of my life, but on Arab merchant had t-shirts that I almost bought. I was going to buy several of them. Then I saw e had one t-shirt that he was seling that said “President Arafat.” I decided not to buy from him. Besides, I should buy them from a Jewish merchant anyway.
Make no mistake about it. While Christianity and Islam have beautiful aspects of their faiths, Israel is a Jewish state, and Jerusalem is about Jews. As I saw Israeli flags flying high in the sky, I felt elated knowing that there was a place where all Jews can go. Outside of America, we have few options. Also, Israel is a Jewish state. The Arab Muslims have 22 states. They do not need 23.
Later tonight my friend Uri gets married. A wedding in Israel with people of all stripes will be an experience to remember.
Yet for now, with the Wailing Wall in the rear view mirror, it is time to get serious, as in some serious shopping. There are t-shirts waiting to be bought.
On to the next adventure.
eric