Kindness

The taxi driver who took me from the airport to Jerusalem asked when I last ate. When he heard my answer, Shuki stated: You must eat. I would not let you go to bed hungry. He called a friend who could not offer assistance. He took me to my apartment, showed me the area and stopped at one restaurant. It was about to close. We drove to a further restaurant. Same story. It was closing (22:30 is late in Jerusalem, as in many other cities in the world. Jerusalem is not Tel Aviv). I said: Take me to my apartment, please. You have done more than enough. Shuki looked at me as if I was out of my mind. He drove to a different neighborhood. Third time lucky. The restaurant was opened.

I asked in the restaurant whether they have WiFi. They did not. A guy overheard the short conversation. He immediately came to me and said: Do you want to connect to mine?

Last week I went out of the pool and asked a guy whether he knew where the bus stop was. He was unsure, so I asked someone else who directed me to the bus stop. The guy, Avi, listened to the short conversation and then approached me and asked: Where do you need to go? I told him. Avi said: I drive nearby. I take you. We embarked on an interesting conversation at the end of which he stopped outside my home. I said: there was really no need. This is beyond any call of duty. Avi replied: It is nothing. Shabbat Shalom.

***

The following day I ran some errands and went to the central bus station. Cars in Jerusalem remind me of cars in India. Not surprising, seeing how people drive. So many cars with scratches and dents.

07/10

Jerusalem is extremely political, as one can expect. Posters everywhere. Most of them relate to the hostages. Their photos everywhere. Bring Them Home. Other posters shout: Till Victory and Total Victory. One can assume that different people, of different camps, put those posters. Unfortunately, those who support the present government are not quick to post photos of hostages, and those who think that the most important thing is to bring the hostages home do not necessarily yearn total victory.

7/10 is constant. The entry code to my building is 0710.

Watching football and suddenly the screen is filled with alerts about rockets fired on Israeli towns. No tranquillity in the troubled country.

I went to the Hostages Square with my friend Aaron. We both watched a 3D video clip showing the life of a hostage in Gaza. Five disturbing minutes. We walked around the square in complete silence. Our hearts are heavy. We fail to understand how the Israeli government does not do absolute everything to bring them home. This is their fundamental duty and responsibility.

I am alarmed by the number of people with guns, with magazines inside. When I was a soldier, magazines were outside. Now rifles have a special pin that stops bullets. One needs to remove this security pin to shoot. The soldier’s ability to respond to attack is quicker.

Not far from my apartment, there is an Orthodox-Egalitarian community. I was intrigued as Orthodoxy is not Egalitarian. I decided to attend a Friday prayer. The service was scheduled to start at 16:30. At 16:25 there were six people in the room. At 16:35, the room was full, with dozens of people of all ages. The prayer started with singing and continued with singing. For two hours, there was almost constant singing. The service was run by a rabbi and rabba. The rabbi leads the singing with his beautiful voice. The rabba provides words of wisdom. She told us that she just returned from Italy, where she was invited to attend an interfaith meeting of Christians, Muslims and Jews. She said she was reluctant to travel as there were threats that the Jewish delegation might risk injury. The Catholic hosts insisted and said they guarantee security, so she went. The meeting was invigorating. The Christians and Muslims embraced the Israeli delegation and asked the rabba to convey the following message to her community: You are not alone. We stand with you. We support you. We pray for your safety. We pray for the return of the hostages to their homes. You are on our thoughts and prayers.

Her words were moving. People cried hearing this message.

Then the rabba invited Amit to speak. Amit is a soldier who serves in Gaza. He was called on 7 October and fought in Gaza until January. Then, he returned home to his wife and three daughters for a few weeks, only to be called again for a few months of intense fighting in Gaza. Amit wanted to speak, to share his ordeal with the community. This speech as well was moving. People cried again.

It was the most inspiring Friday evening I have had in Israel to date.

Arab-Jewish relationships

I needed to see a doctor. I called to book an appointment and was told that Dr L. would see me. He is a Muslim who resides in West Jerusalem. He did his studies in Cairo. He said that the clinic is like a family, Jews and Arabs together. From time to time, he encountered prejudice but on the whole, he and his family are well integrated into Israeli society. We agreed that people are first and foremost humans, and we should keep our humanity and treat each other with respect and dignity. It was a pleasant conversation, and I received good, professional treatment.

***

I visited Abu Tor. This is a neighborhood to the south of the Ben Hinnom Valley. From 1948 until the 1967 Six-Day War, Abu Tor was divided between Israel and Jordan. The area consists of typical Arab houses which were left by their Arab inhabitants in 1948. The vacant houses were taken over by Jewish residents, while the buildings on the other side of the partition line continued to house Arabs.

A Jewish family opened their home to me and showed me around. They have a large garden, surrounded by a fence. A small road separates between their house and the Arab house across the street. The Green (1967) Line passes in between the houses. It is possible to see Jordan in the distance.

***

The train ride from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv is 50 minutes long. The difference between these two cities is immense. As you travel along, the scenery changes. Different people. With every train stop, you see more secular people and less orthodox. The clothes are different. The smells are different. And Tel Aviv is about freedom. People are carefree. The atmosphere is far more relaxed. People are less tense. Less guns on the streets. Less soldiers. The heavy, condensed atmosphere is replaced by the breeze from the sea.

I love cities that have beaches. The sea has a magical effect on people, making them relax and free. It starts with the clothes and continues with everything else. Born and raised in Tel Aviv, this city remains my home, where I feel at ease, part of the place.