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12 THE SOUTHERN ISRAELITE July 13, 1*7*
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‘If it’s Tuesday
this must be
Tel Aviv’
by
Stanley M. Lefco
The coastline and white
buildings of Tel Aviv reminded
one of Miami. As the plane
touched down, the passengers
applauded. As we later learned and
came to understand, we were
home.
We boarded our bus for the
short ride to Jerusalem and our
residence for the next few days, the
King David Hotel. On the
outskirts of Jerusalem, we stopped
and left the bus, put on yarmulkes,
filled cups with wine, formed a
circle, sang songs and repeated the
Schecheyanu:
Blessed art thou. Lord our
God, King of the Universe,
who has granted us life and
sustenance and permitted us
to reach this time.
A light rain was falling. The sky
was gray, and it was cold, but not a
biting cold. A few hours earlier
Israelis had observed the funeral of
Golda Meir. Our United Jewish
Appeal Young Leadership
Mission in Eretz Yisrael had
begun.
Our first full day began with a
view of Jerusalem from the Mount
of Olives. As we left the hotel, a
panhandler solicited us for money.
It was a strange feeling to know the
man was very likely Jewish.
A Jewish cemetery now lies in
ruin on the Mount, desecrated by
the Arabs during their occupation
of the City. We were advised not to
stay at the hotel on the Mount
since it sits on part of this
cemetery.
We entered the Old City through
the Dung Gate, named for what
passed through it, and there we
saw and experienced the Western
Wall.
One can walk from one end of
the Wall to the other in a matter of
seconds. It is such a small comer of
this great place. I thought about
how many would trade places with
me for just this one moment to be
here.
From there we toured the Jewish
quarter, now being rebuilt. In fact,
Israel is a land of constant
construction—growth. Our guide
told us that the bird of Israel is the
crane.
Atop Mount Scopus at Hebrew
University, we lunched and
learned about the school, then it
was off to Ammunition Hill where
fierce battles were fought between
Arabs and Israelis in 1948. The
bunkers are sad reminders of the
sacrifices made by Jews to
establish their homeland. From
there one can see modern
Jerusalem and what likely has
caused much consternation in the
Arab world, for it symbolize ;
Jewish intention to remain foi
in this holy city.
That evening we visited
downtown Jerusalem, a busy,
active area. Again, there was a
strange but warm feeling to realize
that literally everyone around you
is Jewish.
At the Jerusalem of Gold
nightclub, the only Israelis present
were the performers. We found
ourselves sitting in rows among
German, British and Argentinian
Jews. It is not a bad place if you
like to listen to an Israeli singing
American pop hits of the fifties and
sixties.
The piano player frequently
missed the cues of the singers, and
the drummer, who also served as
emcee, later informed us that the
piano player had just arrived from
Russia and did not speak a word of
Hebrew. He did, however, play
quite well.
So ended our second full day in
Israel.
We visited Meah Shearim, the
ultra-orthodox neighborhood of
Jerusalem. It was quiet as everyone
was preparing for the Shabbat. We
were surprised at its starkness. It
was a section of dilapidated
buildings and narrow streets.
Signs at several prominent places
warned women that they should
not enter unless dressed modestly.
At Kabbalat Shabbat at the
Western Wall, bearded men in
black suits formed little enclaves.
The hats worn by the members
devoted their particular
affiliation.
While watching the worshipers
grow as Shabbat came, we were
suddenly surprised by loud
singing. In the distance, marching
toward the Wall, six abreast and
fifteen deep, came a group of
young men. They were from the
Yeshivas. Their joyful voices
disrupted the praying of others to
the point that some were unable to
continue. As they entered the gate
to the Wall, still singing they
formed a circle, each boy with his
hand on the shoulder of the one in
front.
The circle began to grow, and we
found ourselves being pushed
further and further back. Then as
quickly as they had appeared, they