The streets in Jerusalem are alive and pumping with breakneck speed activity. The shops like Zara, H&M, Renuar and Castro are busy swiping plastic hundreds of shekels at a time from a fascinating cross section of people who seem to be out shopping at every opportunity.
And the restaurants and café’s are bustling and I have made a mental note to do another column of what and where to dine in Israel as soon as I digest all the information, that is. The more upscale or shall we say costly the restaurant, the longer you have to wait to be seated. In fact there was one night when we had our fill with dining and instead sought out a good old fashioned falafel place that would satiate us both fir he night for about 25 Shekel. We were directed to Uzi’s Falafel up above a very steep hill somewhere above Geula. My wife thought the falafel was fantastic, I thought it was just okay, but that was good enough on a night like this.
Now I am back home in my customary environment and I am able to put these sentences together without trying to figure out whether my copy editors are sleeping or awake due to the seven hour time differential. I have to add that there is a certain thrill and comfort to awaking at 5 am in Jerusalem on Thursday and grabbing for my iPad with the knowledge that it is 10pm in New York and I can look at the final pages of the paper with a more discerning eye before we go to press.
Upon reflection now as I am still battling some jetlag and have been awake for some hours during the night, I can say that I came back from Israel a few days ago rather torn and even conflicted to an extent. First and foremost as you might have expected there was a pall cast on the mood of not just all of Israel but of all Jews and decent people the world over on the matter on the kidnapping and murder of the trio known simply as the three boys.
One day last week we were caught in the middle of a riot by young teenage Jews at the bottom of Jaffa Road not far from the Damascus Gate. I videoed some of it on my phone and it looks pretty gruesome and even violent. Being stuck in the middle of the riot seemed calmer and even orderly in contrast to the photographs and video. The pictures— some displayed here—makes it look more like Iraq or Syria rather than central Jerusalem.
At one point we were standing next to a blue shirted police commander and asked him why his officers were being so rough with what looked like young kids pulling and dragging them …read more
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