Yesterday, we visited Yad Vashem, the Israel Museum, and finally, Machane Yehuda.
My father had already visited Yad Vashem during his previous trip to Israel, while it was my first time seeing it. I have a lot to write about it, but I am doing so mostly in my Israel journal, not on my blog. It probably seems strange that I am dedicating only a couple of short paragraphs to something so important, while I can make an entire post just about the antics of Israelis, but the reason is that this is more personal.
One of the things that struck me in Yad Vashem was the connection between all Jews. There were all types of different Jews there -- Chareidi, daati, wearing kippot srugot, not religious at all, Israelis, Americans, Russians, Spanish, French. And yet you looked at all them and knew they were part of your nation. You felt able to relate to them, even though they were complete strangers. After viewing photographs or certain parts of the museum, you would catch someone's eye and acknowledge them as someone who is feeling the same way you are because you are all part of the same thing. It was unbelievable.
After Yad Vashem, we took a taxi to the Israel Museum, and we did not let ourselves be cheated. One driver offered us a ride for 40 shekel. No deal. He also offered to drive us to Ashdod, which was completely out of the blue.
In the Israel Museum, we saw four main exhibits. The actual museum is being renovated, but there were some exhibits open, such as Masks, Family Traces, a model of Jerusalem from the time of the Second Temple, and the Dead Sea Scrolls. I remember the scrolls were on display in NYC for some time last year and I wanted to see them, but I never ended up going.
The last part of our day involved Machane Yehuda. Now that was fun! I could have spent hours just walking around and exploring. It is the perfect place for observing people, and I believe that if I stood there for a couple of hours, I would be able to write fifteen pages about it at least.
At one point, I walked into a little shop full of odds and ends like broken watches, antique goblets and souvenirs, and other items -- just a bunch of stuff, much of it simply piled one on top of the other. That kind of stuff always seems to fascinate me, so I walked in.
The owner greeted me, and I replied, "Shalom," in return. I think he must have asked me something in Hebrew and I looked at him blankly because I had not understood it, so he asked me which language I speak. "Anglit v'rusi," I replied. He smiled and began talking to me in Russian, asking me where I am from, what I am doing here, and so on. I told him that I am from New York and am on vacation here in Israel. The next thing I knew, he was telling me that he has a son whom I can marry and settle down with in Israel permanently. I think I was too speechless to do much else but stare at him. He added in Russian, "He's younger than me!" I was still unable to actually say anything coherent. My thoughts were something along the lines of, "You have got to be kidding.... This is crazy!"
My father came looking for me, so I introduced him to the storeowner, who repeated his offer of his son's hand in marriage. My father seemed eager to get out of there, so I thanked the man for the offer, said goodbye, and went on to explore more of the craziness that is Machane Yehuda.
