Nov. 4 – This is what passes for normal these days: A day that starts with newspaper headlines noting that Fatah claims responsibility for the murder of a 19-year-old soldier on Friday, along with front-page photos of the crowds gathered in Tel Aviv last night to commemorate the sixth anniversary of the murder of Yitzhak Rabin.
In the center of town, fresh signs offer official apologies for the inconvenience of roadwork due to the construction of a tunnel running the length of the north-south Route No. 1. Kikar Tzion, the once-lively square at the bottom of the Ben Yehuda mall is completely torn up. Pedestrians tentatively pick their way through the sand and wooden planks littering the pathway in front of the street that once was a magnet for the
tourist throngs.
Today, the only visitors around seem to be a small group of gray-haired non-Jewish Scandinavians who stand out in their pale leisure suits, cameras bobbing over their chests.
They’re accosted by a youngish Hasid weaving his way through the streets with
a megaphone, loudly proclaiming his message in Hebrew and English: “Mashiach
(Messiah) is coming, no one should worry, Mashiach is coming.”
At a sidewalk caf? where I stop for more extensive people-watching, a slender,
hip young man is deep in conversation with his girlfriend at the next table. A tiny knitted kippa is clipped onto his thick wavy hair that’s pulled back in a neat ponytail.
Across the street I notice that the Russian-speaking musician, who could be
seen and heard every day outside Sbarro’s Pizza shop just up Jaffa Rd., has
migrated down to a new spot in front of the Village Green restaurant. His
amplified mandolin renditions of old favorite Israeli and Hasidic melodies
have a better audience there, where at least the restaurant has patrons.
Sbarros, some two and a half months after the bomb blast that killed 15
people, is almost deserted.
As the traffic light changes in front of the caf?, I notice another familiar
Jerusalem figure – albeit in an unfamiliar setting. Gershom Solomon, head of
the Temple Faithful, is generally seen conducting business at demonstrations
near the Temple Mount during the three pilgrimage festivals. Today he’s just
a slight figure seated in the driver’s seat of a dark blue Buick sedan – a
car not too commonly sighted on the streets of Jerusalem. An elderly
Ethiopian priest passing by leans on his cane and ogles the vehicle.
I hop on a bus and head to an appointment in the vicinity of the recently
opened Jerusalem bus station, stopping in at the new facility on my way. Some
20 people stand patiently in line to pass through the serious security check
to gain entry to the building. Anyone could be forgiven for thinking they’re
in an upscale shopping mall rather than a bus station. Espresso bars, fancy
shoe stores, well-stocked bookstores and an expensive juice bar grace the
first two floors. The ticket office and bus platforms are all on the top
floors of the building, making a quick run for the bus a thing of the past.
As I board the local city bus for the ride home, the driver turns up the
radio to allow us to hear the latest news. Just a mile away, riders who took
the number 25 bus found themselves under fire from terrorists at the French
Hill junction. For Shoshana Ben Yishai,16, from Beitar Ilit it was to be her
last ride. Along with two other Israeli victims, as yet unnamed, Shoshana
was murdered by a 34-year-old M-16-bearing terrorist from Hebron. Three
people risked their lives to kill the Islamic Jihad member and prevent
further mayhem.
On my bus, a disgusted passenger in front of me throws down the newspaper she
was reading that bears a picture of a smiling Foreign Minister Shimon Peres
clasping hands with Palestinian terrorist leader Yasser Arafat at their
meeting in Spain yesterday.
This is what passes for normal these days.
Jerusalem-based writer Judy Lash Balint is author of “Jerusalem Diaries: In Tense Times”.
