O Jerusalem

It was a surreal feeling as we walked up to the Jaffa Gate in Jerusalem.  The moment we climbed the stairs and passed through the walls of the old city, we were transported back to a different era.  Street vendors dotted the entrance, inviting us into the city with sweet smells of roasted corn and date bread. Limestone streets matched those of the old buildings they joined. The white monotone of the city was offset by the vibrant colors of the linens and spices the multitude of shops had to offer.

Light reflecting off the limestone buildings made the entire city look magical.  No photo I had previously seen, nor the ones I took of Jerusalem myself were able to capture its glimmer and sheen. So I stared at the city, sad that the only way I'd be able to see its full beauty is by walking its streets.

In the middle of being enraptured by the architecture, our focus was shifted to people watching as one Hasidic Jew or another rushed past us.  We couldn't figure out where they were headed, especially since we saw them walking this way and that all throughout the day.  In the end, we just came up with our own conclusions.  My mom deciding they all just like to 'walk with a purpose'.  While I on the other hand felt that they, like my own genetic disorder (from the maternal side), are chronically late.

 

Then again, if I lived there and knew where I needed to go, I'd probably walk the same speed to skirt past the hoards of tourists as quickly as possible.