He's the child of two holocaust survivors. His mother was the sole survivor of her family and his father only survived after he and his family literally hid in a hole, but still endures the memory of his father being murdered and his having to assume the 'man of the hole' responsibilities during the time his family was hiding out. His brother leads the marijuana policy project and is currently living in a treehouse in Thailand with his wife for some of his other social activist platforms that have run him out of Israel for the time being. His sister lives in Me'ah Sharim (the most religious neighborhood in Jerusalem and likely all of Israel) and has eleven children and is forbidden to read her brother's books because of her religious views. But, when the Haredim find reason to protest it her big brother who informs them on tactics for dealing with the police and protocol they must adhere to in order to avoid altercations with the law. And he...who is he? Well, he is my new favorite author, a voice that many Israelis in my generations and the ones to follow are reading on mass, and he is the topic of my final paper that is the only assignment I still have to complete before my semester is really over.
With tests finished and only a paper I am very much looking forward to writing still to complete, I met my friend Ami for lunch and a beer to celebrate finishing my semester and his moving into his new place. If one is to think about what makes up their neighborhood, than I think it is a combination of where you live, where you spend your time, where you socialize and, ofcourse, where the people you know build their spaces they call home. It shouldn't be surprising then that Ami just moved in accross the street from my favorite bar. You can see his apartment building from the window in the bathroom at Tuvya...just in case anyone wanted to know how close I'm talking about :)
Ami and I talked about our thoughts, having tracked them with eachother since both of our arrival to Israel, me to study and return to the States just one year later and him to teeter on whether to make aliyah, having now decided to go through with it, and studying by day and breaking into the Israeli music scene by night. Who would have though when we met in high school (my camp friends his best friends from highschool, his camp friend, my roommate in college..small world) we'd be eating Ethiopian food next to the walls of the Old City, his having just declared Israeli citizenship and my being 1/10th a rabbi?
Ami leaves to go to work and as I am walking past Tuvya I see my friend Yakov's car outside the bar. Its' hard to miss that beige punch buggy...the real ones...not the news ones (in hebrew called a hiposheet....ironically sounding very similiar to heap of shit). I walk into the bar to find him and his business partner, Itamar, taking inventory, recieving a delivery of food and making a playlist for the beginning part of the night. It's funny how the bar is darker in the day time than at night...I guess it's the type of place that lights up at night and, during the day, the work that can't be done when people are drinking with friends and enjoying their free time, gets completed before another night of entertainment and spirits begins. I sit and have a drink while Yakov wraps up his work, reserves a few seats at the bar and a table for the Sof (end) of Semester Shakedown my roommate and I have organized for the night. We walk outside, deciding it would be nice to take a sunset walk through the Old City.
Yakov owns a bar his friends who own the refrigerator repair garage accross the alley that Tuvya sits on insists Bobbie is on his way for the presidency. He stops to tell some kid fixing a broken parking meter that it is wrong that they ticket people who park at a meter that they can't pay because it is broken and the city has yet to fix it. They go back and forth in hebrew I can mostly understand for a while and then Bobbie wraps up the way he does most thoughts...things need to change...there is such silliness in the way we go about and do things...there should be a revolution...and I think throwing a big party and getting people out in the streets will be part of it :)
We walk in through the Damascus gate. I've never wondered through the non-Jewish areas of the Old City but with a fluent Hebrew speaker and native Israeli, not to mention someone that was a paratrooper during his time in the army and has more than enough presence to make me feel safe makes me feel really happy to be able to see a part of this place I have yet to see and not worry that I am wondering aimlessly into unfamiliar space. We look in the antique shops. Bobbie wants to buy 'Jerusalem paraphanalia' for the bar...he wants to represent Jewish, Christian and Muslim symbols and although he swears there is no way he'd get into politics, in the back of my head I'm telling myself this is a guy who owns a bar and is going to be buying a round of drinks for members of the Knesset one day when he gives a speech during some Israeli election. This is not a dull mind I am in the company of!
It gets dark and I get to ride in the heap-o-shit to go home and shower before the celebration continues. Soon I'm sitting in the bar at the King David hotel. They just celebrated their 75th anniversary (the hotel is older than the country!) and I'm catching up with some of my close friends at school and their parents who have recently arrived to spend holiday with them. This break, unlike any other time off during the year, results in one of two things for people...either they got on a plane yesterday to meet their parents at some vacation spot/are travelling home or their families are arriving to spend time with them in Israel. As of Monday, I'm the latter...excited for the arrival of mom and Lindsey...knowing how great it will be to finally be able to put places and faces with all the stories I have been telling them.
We toast to the end of the semester and enjoy the time of getting to know one another, not just through school, through family. I meet my roommate for dinner...sushi...we celebrate 'not really being done since we both have to finish our Israel Seminar paper' and then work our way over Tuvya to meet our friends. The bar fills up and I joke that this is my Cheers of Jerusalem. We take seat at the bar and Noam brings over the usual pint of Newcastle that 'all Americans drink' when they come into the bar. As the night goes on everyone I have seen that day, and about half of the class who are left in Jerusalem all make pilgimmage to the bar. We toast eachother. We celebrate. We dance. No matter what anyone says, we're happy here...maybe its a temporary happiness...but I think we're in a groove.
It's still the season of miracles. How lovely that one of our three 'long' holidays celebrates miracles and light...how lovely that the bar is lighter at night than in the day, how lucky I am to have found people in Israel who bring light...to their lives and to their friends. And, how excited am I to share that light and the real miracle of this place with my mom and sister when they arrive in two days.
Shabbat Shalom and Chag Hannukat Sameach.
Jessy
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