psalms 23 & 85 [Tuesday, 20 December, 2005]

Like DC's Capitol Hill, most of Jerusalem's government buildings are consolidated into one area of the city. By far the most interesting and beautiful was the Bayt ha-Mishpat ha-Elyon, or Supreme Court.

It didn't take much to get lost in the meandering streets of Jerusalem, a city that seems to suffer from chronic rush-hour-itis, and the uniform white brick construction doesn't help. Neither, unfortunately, did our map, nor my grandfather's professed familiarity with the city (to his credit, he'd been there probably a dozen times before). But we did find the building, nestled in a grove of cypress trees and across from a federal parking lot.

This foot-bridge separated that parking lot and the Court itself. It was made, of course, from Jerusalem Gold stone, but the architecture was truly impressive -- skewed overhang, bold aquamarine steel supports, in one direction overlooking government buildings and in the other, an unpartable Red Sea of terra cotta roofs.


He restores my soul; he leads me in circles of righteousness.

Kind of a neat perspective of a very simple structure; a pyramid build into the Court building, with four circular skylights at the top. Every thematic architectural motif in this entire building comes from some Bible verse or another. Normally architecture doesn't really interest me, but this is like history and art and architecture and spirituality all rolled into one happy edifice! The building is very, very cool. If you ever find yourself in Jerusalem, check it out.


Truth will spring up from the earth; justice will look down from heaven.

The Supreme Court, though the highest in Israel, is only the third level of the state court system, and any citizen is allowed to take a personal complaint to the Supreme Court if her or his rights have been violated. Our guide told us that each case brought forth by Palestinians whose towns had been split in half by the new 5-meter wall to keep out terrorists is tried individually, rather than having a group decision for all cases based on one circumstance. If the government decides the human rights lost are more important than the security gained, they'll issue an order to reroute that portion of the wall. I thought that was pretty incredible. Of course, it'd be infinitely better if there didn't have to be a wall in the first place. She also told us about one man whose constant cases to the court had been consistently turned down -- every month he sent a new letter asking why he hadn't yet been made the president of the country.

This courtyard was the last stop on our tour of the building, which included a peek inside a courtroom in session (but everyone was talking quickly in Hebrew) and some more really, really awesome architecture. Out in the courtyard, it was an overcast day, but somehow that made this shot seem all the more beautiful. Even after days of seeing nothing but white stone, the courtyard was stunning and serene, with its "fountain of truth" patiently bubbling up from the earth.

Give us life, that we may rejoice. Love and truth will meet; justice and peace will kiss.

the ivory city [Monday, 19 December, 2005]

We took a sort of communal taxi into Jerusalem that night. Every building in Jerusalem is made of the same simple but elegant alabaster stones used in ancient times -- by law. Even the sidewalks are made of the same stone. It ties the Old City to the New City, symbolically, aesthetically and economically. It's all local stone. They call it "Jerusalem Gold," but it's really more like ivory. Some is left roughly cut, while some is meticulously sanded and buffed to almost a marble-like appearance. Of course there's stainless steel and glass too, and the ubiquitous terra cotta roofing. It's a stark contrast to see the conservatively-dressed Chassidim, with their black hats and suits, walking along a wall of windsmoothed whiteness.

About a block away from our hotel (or more properly, youth hostel), we passed this intriguingly beautiful building. We walked by it again in the morning and learned it is in fact part of a YMCA built by the British in the early 1900s. Ridiculous! Firstly that there would be a YMCA in the middle of Jerusalem, and secondly that it should look so decidedly un-YMCA-ish. If my local YMCA looked like this, you can be damn sure I'd work out there every day. Heck, going up and down the staircase of that ivory tower would be a workout in itself. I bet they have an indoor pool with water you can walk on, or something.

let go, but not free. [Monday, 19 December, 2005]

The terminal is not only the beginning of my journey but the end of the journeys of others. Cardboard signs with names in Hebrew, Arabic, English, and languages I can't even identify, dot the crowd. Anxious eyes constantly check wrists; feet tap irrhythmically. Suddenly, a child shouts, arms stretch out, eyes brighten. In an instant, heavy bags are flung aside like refuse; carefully-prepared bouquets fall to the floor; and balloons, let go but not free, wander ceilingwards.

shalom, chaverim. [Monday, 19 December, 2005]

People told me Israelis would be brusque, abrasive, and in - your - face, but I found quite the opposite. In fact, waiting for our suitcases to magically appear at the baggage claim at Tel Aviv's Ben Gurion Airport, these two cheery sprites began to make circuits around the whirring metallic racetrack. shift - click - whirrr , shhhhift - click - whirrr.

I'd never seen anything like that before. I assume the bags were empty, and planted there by the airport officials, because I never saw anyone pick them up. Or do they belong to some idealistic globe-trotter? Would you pack your clothes and personal belongings into a plastic emoticon embodiment of Love? Could you hold your head high, walking through a crowd of foreigners and wheeling behind you a grinning Welcome jack-o'-lantern? It's like taking that piece of home with you.

Feeling welcomed in a foreign country is truly a wonderful feeling. And from other Jews who'd been there, I always heard that it "feels like home." After fifteen hours in the air, it may not have felt like home just yet, but it sure felt good.