Here are some of the highlights from my wanderings (haven't made it to the Temple Mount yet...in good time):
Things I did not expect:
-- to find the old city chock full of dirty kittens. (I wonder if there were kittens around in Jesus' time, and if so, what they thought about...all that. Same question re the crusades. It's just sort of funny to imagine the Knights of Templar cuddling up with a calico fluffball after a hard day of slaughter.)
-- to be pelted with pebbles by a small Arabic boy, who shouted at me as I walked past
-- to find the bazaars full of so much Western jangly crap
-- how small and crowded everything felt
-- how crazy tourists are even in the most sacred of places. Three little boys ran into me (just after the pebble incident. Which by the way, just amused me a little) and I asked if they would show my to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. Which they did, at break-neck speed, weaving and bobbing through the markets. We got to the Church and the boys pointed to the door and then rubbed their fingers together in that internationally-recognized sign for moola. I gave them 25 shekels (about $7, those little punks) and walked inside. Madness ensued. This particular Sacred Spot gets its own post, after I've been there a few times.
--to get asked on a date by a young Asian man just inside Jaffa Gate. In fact, here's the entire conversation for your amusement (and also to answer the question, why doesn't Elise go on very many dates --answer: because I usually get asked by strange guys out of nowhere, with no context, and, because, well, read on): Let's call the dude "Norman".
Norman: [approaching out of nowhere]: "Hello, where are you from?"Okay, so that last little bit didn't happen. But the rest did. Go ahead and judge me now.
Me: "Uh, here. I live in Jerusalem. Just moved here from the States."
Norman[completely dead-pan]: "You are very different, you are beautiful. Will you have a drink with me?"
Me [incredulously]: "Wait, what? How am I different from the thousands of other Western tourists here? [I sweepingly gesture to all the thousands of other Western tourists loitering around] What are you selling?"
Norman: "You stand out. Have a drink with me. You are intelligent."
Me: "Wait a second, why do you think I'm intelligent? How could you possibly know that?" [notice that I oh so humbly accept the premise]
Norman: "You moved to Jerusalem, so you are intelligent."
Me: [this is the worst reason I've ever heard. But I try to be a bit charitable since I'm probably throwing him off his game. So I say, with great deal of charm] : "That's not a reason to think a person is intelligent. How is it even relevant where...
Norman [cutting me off]: "Have a drink with me."
Me: "Seriously, what are you selling?"
Norman: [blank stare]
Me: "Um, okay. Can you give me a good reason why I should have a drink with a total stranger? I mean, I know you think I look nice, but what will I get out of it?"
Norman: [blank stare]
Me: "Okay, well, thank you for your offer, I'm flattered, but I..have to go."
Norman [runs away, ducking behind David's Tower just in time to hide the onset of audible weeping].
So much for surprises. How about Things I did expect:
-- the wonderful smell: warm pita bread, coffee, cardamon, cinnamon and pomegranates being mashed for juice
-- the feeling of stepping into the Old City and being transported back thousands of years (except for all the aforementioned crap. Nothing ruins old-world ambiance like a whole shop of Hello Kitty paraphernalia)
-- multitudes of tourist groups elbowing and jockeying for a space
-- to get lost, often. And how! Good thing is, if you stick to one direciton you eventually hit a wall with, like, battlements and such. Big Hint.
--lots of nuns. Everywhere. And monks.
--to get hassled by Arab shop-keepers for my height and eye color. They really think I'll buy their crap if they call me "Miss America"? Pishaw. Not...likely.
Well, long day tomorrow -- my first tour of campus, and a few meetings with apartment people. Wish me luck...
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