We have spent the past three and a half days in Jerusalem and have one more to go. So, I want to share some observations about this extraordinary place.
We began our visit here touring the Old City on Monday evening, Tuesday, and Wednesday morning. We saw, heard, and read all the highlights and it was, as it always must be, amazing.
Then, yesterday afternoon, we visited traveled well beyond the Old City to Yad Kennedy, the peace forest on the city's outskirts where a grove of trees was planted many years ago in memory of my father-in-law, Bill Frank, who died on July 4, 1966 in an automobile accident. Jennifer never had a chance to know her father. So, neither will Ella or Sam. But those trees planted in his honor will always be part of this place. And Ella and Sam honored their grandfather's memory by planting pistachio saplings and reciting a prayer. This is an important connection to their grandfather and, in turn, to Israel.
The JFK Memorial at Yad Kennedy
Today -- as Ian, Mark, Bryant, and Mary took their day trip to Masada, the Dead Sea, and Ein Gedi -- Jennifer, the kids and I took a short taxi ride over to the Nahalat Shiv'a neighborhood of West Jerusalem to have lunch and shop for Sam's tallit in the Nahalat Shiv'a neighborhood of West Jerusalem. There, on the small street -- more like an alleyway -- of Joel Moshe Solomon, is a lovely little boutique, Gabrieli Rubin.
The shop had an excellent selection and Sam was fairly clear about what he wanted. What I loved about his process for choosing his tallit was that he was flexible within his general criteria and he sort of let the options provided by the shopkeeper inform his ultimate choice. In the end, he was very pleased. When Sam was done, I chose a simple tallit for myself. Jen shopped too but couldn't find quite the right one for herself. This was one of those experiences where you really have to take a step back, while you're doing it, and say to yourself something like: "Wow, I'm in Jerusalem with my family and my child is choosing the tallit that he will wear on his Bar Mitzvah day and for years after that. Perhaps, when he is old and passes from this life, he will be buried in it (as I hope to be buried in mine in that 'ol pine box when I go to Glory)."
After the tallit transaction was consummated, we shopped around a bit more. Ella purchased a very nice "Jerusalem" sweatshirt for her sitter, Belinda, who collects them; and Sam and I tooled around in a Hebrew/English used book store, finding two fine volumes on Jerusalem's history. One of the volumes had been signed in 1988 by its' co-author, former Jerusalem mayor Teddy Kolek, who was known to be quite the peacemaker in this often troubled city of cities.
Ya want lentils? Mahane Yehuda shuk's got lentils!
For the final portion of the day, we walked northwest on Jaffa Road to the Mahane Yehuda Shuk, which seems to be about 10 times the size of Tel Aviv's Carmel Shuk. This, to us, was real, every day, Jerusalem. When Jen and I used to travel overseas more often, it was in this type of place where we would try to spend a fair amount of time because this type of place gives you a sense of a community's rhythm, of its history; its reality in all its light and darkness. This type of place is, at once, both beautiful and vile. Clean and filthy. Quiet and loud. And it has been this way for centuries. At the shuk, there were very few tourists. Lots of Jews, Muslims, and Christians of every shape, size, color, and manner of dress mixing it up trying to get the best deal possible on every type of commodity: fruits, vegetables, fish, meat, poultry, pastas, lentils, nuts, candies, breads, pastries, textiles, housekeeping products....everything. It was beautiful and amazing. Fishmongers hollering at the tops of their lungs. Ultraorthodox families with multiple kids mingling uneasily with Africans and tourists like us. Everyone pushing and shoving. Politeness? We don't need no stinking politeness! Get the hell out of the way and let me place my order!
....or, perhaps a lovely mango?
After making the rounds we sat for a bit, beyond the rattle and hum, just outside a small, tucked-away hummus and beer joint, and watched a tradition that has been occurring daily in Jerusalem for at leat 4,000 years. And guess what, there wasn't a tour guide or explanatory sign to be found (and there wouldn't be). A gaggle of old Jewish men with no teeth had gathered to play and wager on Backgammon. Now this was interesting. Why?
Ex-Brooklynite rabbi holds court at the shuk. Oy.
The history of Backgammon goes back approximately 5,000 years. It is a game of ancient Mesopotamia, including Ur (now in Iraq), birthplace of Abraham. Excavations at Shahr-e Sokhteh (Persian شهر سوخته , literally "The Burnt City") in Iran have shown that a similar game existed there around 3000 BC. The artifacts include two dice and 60 checkers, and the set is believed to be 100 to 200 years older than the sets found in Ur, and on the board found at Shahr-e Sokhteh the fields are fashioned by the coils of a snake.
So, methinks it quite possible that Abraham, father of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam played and wagered on Backgammon, perhaps in a market like this one, with his buddies, just like these guys. The jingling of the dice in their little jars (I don't know the technical name) was sweet, real Middle Eastern music.
4,000 years plus and still going strong. (Note to USA: We don't need "fixing.")
All of this is to say that, of course, we need the guided tours of the Old City to provide us with perspective. But, for this Jew, the meaning of Jerusalem is found beyond the walls of the Old City. Beyond the Western Wall and Al Quds and the Tomb of Jesus, in the work of arborists who get their hands dirty in Israel's soil made rich with the blood, sweat, and tears of their forebears; and in the ancient daily grind of the tallit sellers, the bookshop clerks, the Mahane Yehuda Shuk merchants, and those ordinary backgammon players.
My family and me went to the City of David. We saw a movie about what happened a long time ago. Then, we went in an old water tunnel.
The back of Uncle Bennie's head as we enter Hezekiah's water tunnels. Nice kippa!
We went to a place where you plant a tree if someone good you know died. I planted one for my Grandpa Billy. The tree was a pistachio tree.
Ella
At Yad Kennedy. A grove of trees honors Grandpa Billy, who died in 1966.
Grandpa Billy's marker "William Shetzer Frank" at Yad Kennedy
Planting ourr pistachio tree saplings for Grandpa Billy
Saplings planted!
With Michael, the arborist who helped us with the saplings.
"Give dew for a blessing
And cause benificent rains
To fall in their season,
To satiate the mountains of Israel
And her valleys
And to water thereon
Every plant and tree.
And these saplings
Which we plant before you this day.
Make deep their roots
And wide their crown,
That they may blossom forth in grace
Amongst all the trees in Israel,
For good and for beauty."
Professor Shmuel Z. "Sam" Sherman of Harvard's Department of Archaeology provides useful insights into the Herodian port city of Caesarea and the Old City of Jerusalem. For more information, call 1-800-LEARN :o)
We had to wake up super early to get ready for our tour of the Old City. I was really tired. However, at breakfast at Cafe Cafe we saw old Washington friends Leslie, Nadav, and Ori. Then me, my parents, sister, uncles, Aunt Mary, and Mark, met our tour guide, Moshe, at the Old City's Jaffa Gate.
We walked until we reached the Tower of David. Inside is a full history of Jerusalem from the Canaanite period to the birth of the State of Israel. It was one my favorite parts of the tour.
View of the Dome of the Rock from the top of Tower of David
We then walked across the Roman-Byzantine ramparts that were not only a defense mechanism for that period, but a battleground in the Six Day War's fight with Jordan for Jerusalem (You can see all the cool bullet holes in the wall at Zion Gate.)
The Mount of Olives from the top of Tower of David
Church of the Holy Sepulchre from top Tower of David
Our little "clan" in the Jewish Quarter (you know how those Jews can be)
Later, we went through Zion Gate to the spiritual home of King David's tomb. (I don't really think he's in there, but it was still a cool experience.) Then we walked to the room of the Last Supper which was fun to walk through. Then we had a falafel lunch (but I had pizza.) After that we went to the Western Wall (the Kotel) and my note was still there! I've heard that others clean out some of the notes in the Wall, so I didn't expect it to be there. We also saw the original depth of the Wall in an inside chamber. We had then gone up to the legendary Temple Mount [Al Quds in Arabic], which in Jewish belief is thought to have been the spot where Adam was created, as well as where Abraham nearly sacrificed Isaac. We saw the Dome of the Rock which is so big and beautiful even though we couldn't get in [because it is closed to non-Muslims]. According to Muslim belief this is the spot where the prophet Mohammed ascended to heaven and where Abraham nearly sacrificed Ishmael, rather than Isaac.
We then walked to the Via Dolorosa (the path on which Jesus carried the cross), to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Honestly, I thought the Church was sort of creepy. It made me feel at bit small. Although there was a lot of cool stuff, like the rock where Jesus's crucifix was, the slab of rock where he was prepared for burial (I thought I could see his blood stains!) as well as the structure where his tomb is held. We saw some pretty mosaics too. I also lit a candle of prayer there. Moshe showed us the spot where his wife, also a tour guide, thinks tha actual tomb of Jesus is. The Church also had a possible grave site of Adam because Christian belief states that when Jesus was being prepared for burial his blood seeped through the cracks in the ground and "purified" Adam's blood below (I'm pretty skeptical about this though.).
Ella on the Temple Mount. Dome of the Rock in the background.
The tomb of Jesus
Then, we walked through the Cardo (ancient main Roman road through the Old City) and saw the Broad Wall, the only remaining wall from the First Temple. At that point, our day-long tour was over. We all went home to get some rest. Later, we went out for dinner.
Next: The City of David
Sam
P.S. Seeing the Dome of the Rock was another favorite part of mine during our tour.
4,000 years of history in 8 hours can really tucker-out a guy!
Over the past three days we have traveled through several thousand years of history. Here's a quick overview and I'll elaborate in a later post.
The port, palace and city of Caesarea (use your imagination)
On Sunday we traveled by train and taxi to Ceasarea -- the Herodian port, palace and city named for Augustus Caesar which, in turn, was conquered by the Byzantines, Mamluks, and Ottomans. It was a truly remarkable feat of engineering for the time because the port's breakwater was completely man-made. To me it really rivals the pyramids of Giza and other similar wonders.
Then, on Monday, after a wonderful breakfast of hummus at Abu Hassan, we trained it to quasi-contemporary 1948 at the Ayalon Institute in Rehovot, which is a former kibbutz that actually hid a secret, underground bullet factory for the Haganah -- the first Israeli army.
Ella and Sam at the Ayalon Institute (Bullet Factory)
The story is really quite remarkable, and interestingly the purpose of the present-day Institute is to provide continuing ethics education for the Israel Defense Forces because, these day, they are often (as we know all too well) confronting civilians rather than troops from other countries. Really fascinating and worth thinking about.
Sam and Bryant in the Roman amphitheater at Caesarea
Sam and Bryant... up close and personal...
After returning from the Ayalon Institute we high-tailed it back to the apartment to grab our bags, load them into the taxi and head over to the Central Bus Station in Tel Aviv to meet up with Bryant, Mary, Mark and Ian to share a sherut (shared taxi van) to begin the next leg of our journey: Jerusalem. Ella, Sam, Jen and I were sad to be leaving Yafo and Tel Aviv because we had so enjoyed the diverse, liberal atmosphere, wonderful food, friendly people, and the beach into the evening (oh yeah...the waves were "tubular" for body surfing ("later days and bigger waves, dude")). Still, we were excited about the next stop. The crossroads of East and West.
Mark flexing outside the Roman amphitheatre... another forgotten Roman God
We arrived in Yemin Moshe, Jerusalem -- just outside the Jaffa Gate of the Old City -- on Monday afternoon. After getting settled, we meandered through the new Mamilla Mall nearby and then grabbed an excellent Italian dinner near Ben Yehuda Street. We shopped a bit on Ben Yehuda, purchasing a couple of tee shirts for Sam and a friend from the States who'd put in a special order, and purchasing brilliant new kippot, topping it off with gelato. Then, we strolled several blocks over to the Jaffa Gate. The sky was dark, the moon was full and we entered the Old City, which was fairly quiet at 10pm. We made our way through the alleyways of the Christian and Muslim Quarters, the silent sook, and ended up at the Western Wall. There, we simply took it in, in all of its lighted Glory. Men on one side; womeon on the much smaller other side (We don't like that.).
Brother and Sister at the Kotel (Western Wall)
We prayed, Sam and Ella wrote notes to stick in between the stones of the mammoth 2,000 year-old Wall. Jen took Ella to the women's and girl's side. Sam hugged the Wall and just meditated there for about 20 minutes, alone. I watched him from a few yards away and cried, thinking about how, 26 years ago my father and I had visited this place together and how coming with my family to Israel was the best decision I had made in a long time. I hope my kids will do it with their families and that the tradition will continue from generation to generation.
Stay tuned for more Awesomeness from Jerusalem....
We've spent the past couple of days meandering around Tel Aviv and getting some sun on the Yafo beach, respectively.
On Friday, we started out a bit late, jet lagged, from our place and headed down to the Old Jaffa Port, walking along the sea wall. Approximately 500 yards off the wall is Andromeda's rock. According to Greek myth, Andromeda, daughter of Cepheus and Cassiopeia, king and queen of Ethiopia, was chained naked to the rock by Poseidon to be eaten by a sea monster in order to punish Cassiopeia for bragging that Andromeda was more beautiful than the nymph-daughters of the sea god Nereus. Perseus, returning from having slain the Gorgon Medusa, found Andromeda and slew the sea monster. He set her free, and married her.
Perseus & Andromeda by Vasari c. 1570
There are a lot of neat things about this. Here are a couple: First, the intertwining of Greek mythology and the port of Jaffa, which gave rise to such legends as Jonah and the Great Fish and served, truly, for thousands of years as the gateway to Jerusalem and the Holy Land for pilgrims from all over the world. Second, in a couple of weeks, we'll be heading to Athens. Okay, here's a third -- and we didn't plan it -- Sam's school project in 7th grade (this coming year) will focus on ancient civilizations. I guess he's gotten a pretty good head start.
We walked up the stairs from the sea wall to Old Jaffa, hoping to access the visitor's center. Alas, we were unable to do so, discovering that it is being renovated. Too bad because we would have loved to see the archeological exhibition. I was fortunate enough to see it in 1984, but I was sad for Jen, Sam, and Ella. Ah well, we purchased some cold bottled water (Note to self: Drink lots of water in July in Israel!) and proceeded on foot back down the stairs to the sea and walked along the southernmost beginnings of the miles-long stretch of Tel Aviv beachfront.
Ella and Sam on TA beach with Old Jaffa in background
The kids were excited because we had been so hot, but down by the Mediterranean, a wonderful breeze was blowing. Sam's 13-year old self was particularly excited by a couple of topless sunbathers. What a life! We took off our sandles and put our feet in the Big Med bathtub. Soothing!
Gradually, we made our way north, up the beach to Charles Clore park, making our way east in search of the Carmel Market and Nahalat Binyamin craft fair. We got a little lost in central Tel Aviv, but a kind woman took pity on us and directed us to the Carmel Market. We walked a couple of blocks west and there it was, a huge outdoor bazaar of all sorts of foods: candies, fresh fish (still jumping) and fishmongers too, meats, cheeses, pastas, breads -- amazing!
Ella's favorites at the Carmel Market
Before we entered, hot again, we stopped at a juice vendor who, in his IDF Ranger tanktop, looked like the Incredible Hulk. Biceps and triceps bulging and glistening in the swealtering heat. Sam ordered up a nice cup of fresh squeezed pomegranate juice. Awesome. Ella had herself freshly squeezed grapefruit juice. Nice. Israelis and Palestinians know very well how to produce both fruits and juice 'em up.
All kinds of smells permeated the place, both good and not so good. If you're going to be in such a place late on a Friday afternoon, just before the beginning of Shabbat when all the best deals can
Carmel Shuk
be had, then you'd better be prepared for suffocating throngs of people, good and bad odors, and overall disgustingness (and greatness). We proceeded several hundred yards into the morass but then Sam said he wasn't feeling very well (as in nauseous), so we made a quick exit through a stall and Sam had a seat on a rather grimy curb. The fresh air did the trick, Jen persuaded him to give it one more try, which he did gallantly but it didn't last long. Still, we'd had our shuk experience and were satisfied.
Ella at Carmel Shuk while Sam decides whether to puke
Instantly, we happened upon the Nahalat Binyamin craft fair, located in south central Tel Aviv. It's got your typical artisan stuff that you see at most such crafty fairs: utensils bent ingeniously to resemble robots or humans, sometimes serving as salt-and-pepper shaker holders, sometimes as guitar players; leather goods; jewelry; lots of artsy Judaica... and, oh yes, Hare Krishnas too! (thank for the reminder Jen!)
Nice but nothing special. Nevertheless, a lovely way to spend the late afternoon. We stopped for snacks of salads and milkshakes at a little street cafe and watched the artisans break down their stations. It was 5:30pm and Tel Aviv was getting quiet. Erev Shabbat.
Sam and the Real Girl at Nahalat Binyamin Craft Fair
We walked a few blocks west, past the Carmel Market again, where Jen purchased a challah, toward the beach, to the apartment building where Ian and Mark were staying on Daniel Street and hung out there for a bit. I sat on the veranda and watched the sun set over the sea. Then, after saying the blessing
over the candles using a lighter and the motzi over the challach, we all headed out to walk along the promenade back toward Yafo, where we would have a wonderful dinner of mezze, lamb kebab, shrimp, and more at Abu Nassar. It was a long, long, long walk.... and by the time we reached the restaurant at the end of Kedem Street, everyone was grumpy. Good thing the servers wasted no time putting the salads and mezze on the table as well as ice cold, fresh limonade. Refreshing!
As we strolled the promenade, just after sunset, thousands of Jewish, Christian, and Muslim Tel Avivians and, of course, tourists from everywhere in the world, were enjoying the evening. It seemed like almost everyone was barbecuing something. Kids were flying kites. Ella and Sam frolicked with the other kids on the great playground that contained some challenging climbing structures. Personally, I was struck by the diversity and tolerance. Yes, I was seeing just the surface and I'm not naive. Still, I wondered why this was scene was not possible throughout Israel, every day, and in the rest of the Middle East too. Jews used to be able to enjoy themselves similarly in Egypt, Iran, and Iraq. But after the creation of Israel, those countries, incensed by the Jewish state's founding on the backs of Palestinians, basically expelled most of their Jews. All of this has been extraordinarily tragic. But this scene on the Tel Aviv promenade, on this Shabbat, told me things could be different in a very good way. Israel, Palestine, and the Arabs have serious work to do to make life better for their people.
Today, our "secular Shabbat" in Sam's words, was spent on the beach in Yafo. Ella and Sam enjoyed playing the rough surf. The lifeguards enjoyed using their PA to tell the "yeledim" (children) not to swim beyond the black flags and to stay inside the green flags. The Muslim women swam with their burkas (head scarves) on. I'd always wondered about that, and now I had my answer. The beach was packed with sun worshippers. I wouldn't call the scene peaceful, but it was good people watching, and the fact that there was a nice little shady bar located on the beach helped take the edge off. Sam had a couple of Pepsi's and I had a couple of ice cold Goldstar beers.
Franks and Shermans at Cordelia in Yafo (photo by Eminem)
As the beach emptied, the four of us remained to watch the big orange ball of fire disappear behind the sea; then we headed home to shower and meet up for dinner (at Cordelia on Yefet Street) with Ian, Mark and..... Jen's brother and sister-in-law, Bryant and Mary. The latter two had been spending time in the northern part of the country over the past couple of days and now would spend much of the remainder of their stay with us here in Tel Aviv and, next week, in Jerusalem. Of course, after dinner, we headed over to Victory for ice cream. Sweet victory.
On that note, I leave you now with Ella "proposing" to Napoleon in Old Jaffa....
We arrived in Israel today after a long flight from New York – made longer by the fact that we had to wait almost two hours as our plane was caught in “rush hour” traffic (as the pilot called it) behind several others waiting to take off.
In any event, despite the length, it was a fun and funny experience. We were among a minority of secular Jews in a throng of ultra orthodox. They weren’t too happy with me wearing my short pants and tie-dyed t-shirt. Very “immodest” you know. At the gate, waiting for a plane, I was approached by a nice young man with a long beard named Micha who, in his polite English accent asked me if I’d like to don tefillin. An entreaty which I, equally as politely in my American accent, declined. Everyone on the plane had ordered kosher meals except us, it seemed. And the babies. There were lots and lots of babies. After all, God said: “Be fruitful and multiply.” My ultra orthodox peeps had complied.
After we landed, Sam turned to me and said “Well Toto, I guess we’re not in Kansas anymore.” Indeed. After a brief scare when we, after quite some time, couldn’t find one of our pieces of luggage at the baggage claim (resolved), everything proceeded apace. We exchanged some dollars for shekels. As we were exiting customs, we saw an old man with a sign that said “Ian Frank.” Now, Ian Frank happens to be my brother in law and, in fact, he and his friend Mark would be joining us for part of the trip. We actually weren’t sure when they would be arriving but, clearly, it was imminent. So, Jen and the kids waited for them while I got our Israeli cell phone situation squared away at a nearby vendor.
How wonderful it was to meet “Uncle Bennie” and Mark as we all touched down in this ancient and new place! After greeting each other, exchanging phone numbers, and chatting a bit, Ian and Mark headed to Tel Aviv. For us, however, the first stop on the Sherman’s Excellent Ancient Civilization Adventure would be just south of TA: Yafo (Jaffa).
We hadn’t gotten much sleep on the plane, so everyone was tired, cranky, and edgy. Poor little Ella, she hadn’t really slept a wink and was just exhausted. But, she rallied and did her best to keep her cool. Jen was concerned about making sure we didn’t get ripped off by the cab driver, so she made sure he used his meter and, after an initial disagreement and some confusion about the cost, we were off.
An hour later, we were in Yafo, at our apartment for the next few days. The apartment is located in an Ottoman house, built in the early 1900s. Our landlords are Issy and Paula. Lovely people. The place is wonderful. Old, comfortable, full of character and located on quiet HaDolfin Street close to Old Jaffa, Ajami, the beach, and the flea market. Yafo is a predominantly Palestinian (or, if you prefer, Israeli Arab) town, so it has a unique feel.
19 HaDolfin Street, Yafo
After getting settled, we decided to take showers and meet Ian and Mark for dinner. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue against the whitewashed buildings and, as it set, the amplified, plaintive voice of the muezzin arose from the nearby mosque, calling the pious to prayer. It was an extraordinary moment. Ella was impressed. It’s one of those things that, when you hear it, you really know you’re in a different world from the one you left only hours earlier.
We were tired but happy. The shower felt great and everyone was in good spirits. Ian and Mark came to our place and we walked from there to Old Jaffa. Before we did so, Sam assumed the push-up position on the sidewalk in front of our place and kissed the ground. “It’s holy land” he said. Yes, he’s a weird kid.
It had gotten dark but the streets were abuzz and ablaze with summer tourists and locals. We entered Old Jaffa from Louis Pasteur Street and marveled at the oldest port in the world. We passed by a sculpture of a whale. This was, according to Biblical legend, the place of Jonah and the fish, after all.
Ella explains the geopolitical ramifications of Napolean's visit to the Holy Land in Old Jaffa.
We marveled at the dark Mediterranean for a few minutes and then decided on a place to eat: Aladin. Located overlooking the Med and with a wonderful view of the coast toward Tel Aviv, we sat at a table on the veranda in the warm, velvety July air. Ella looked at the bright lights of the city and exclaimed “Tel Aviv is awesome!” We ordered hummus, felafel, olives, pickles, kebabs, mussels, shrimp, schnitzel, beer, Sprite, apple juice, water, and vodka and tonics and chatted about everything and nothing. It was wonderfully relaxing.
Jen, Ian, and Eminem yuk it up in Old Jaffa after dinner... (photo by Emines)
After dinner, we meandered back through the center of Old Jaffa, past St. Peter’s Monastery, and into Ajami, where we found the wonderful ice cream parlor Victory. Located at the corner of Yefet and Yehuda MiRaguza it was perfect for people watching from the outside tables. The menu was entirely in Hebrew so it gave us a chance to learn and to try and figure it out. We weren’t very successful, but a nice young man behind the counter spoke enough English to get us what we wanted. It was the best coffee chip ice cream I’d ever had.
After our last licks, Ian and Mark headed back north to their place and we strolled back to 19 HaDolfin Street where we proceeded to collapse into our respective dream states. Welcome to Israel.
After the tallit transaction was consummated, we shopped around a bit more. Ella purchased a very nice "Jerusalem" sweatshirt for her sitter, Belinda, who collects them; and Sam and I tooled around in a Hebrew/English used book store, finding two fine volumes on Jerusalem's history. One of the volumes had been signed in 1988 by its' co-author, former Jerusalem mayor Teddy Kolek, who was known to be quite the peacemaker in this often troubled city of cities.
