I recently had an opportunity to take a walk in the Muslim
Quarter of the Old City of Jerusalem. Before going there, I’d always been a
little apprehensive about showing up—especially with my kippa and tzitzit (the
traditional Jewish garb). It took some courage and the friendly smile of a
close friend who made Aliya about a year ago to persuade me to venture out of
my familiar comfort zone into a hereto unknown reality.
We entered the Old City, a place holy to the world’s three
great faiths, perhaps the most hotly contested area in the world through the Yaffo
Gate. I asked my friend if she was up for some coffee (the cold weather was
beginning to be felt in Jerusalem). She gladly accepted my offer.
As we sat there watching passerby’s, we noticed people of a
variety of backgrounds that’s difficult to spot just about anywhere else. Both
of us are Russian-speakers, so I pointed out a group of Russian tourists taking
in the beauty of the Old City. They spoke in the traditional jargon that I
simply couldn’t resist ignoring them. It was like being back in Moscow again.
Some kind of dejavu…
