Our second Shabbat here in Jerusalem has come and gone. Last night we had a fun dinner at our friends’, Judah and Ariella Katz, and for lunch today we hosted our first Shabbat guests: my bro-in-law Shloimie and three of his friends from Yeshiva. Growing up a Conservative Jew, I never got to mix much with the yeshivish crowd. Until a few years ago, I had stereotyped all of those black-suited talmidim (students) as quiet, reserved boys, just a shade awkward, who would speak only words of Torah and nothing else. Surveying the animated, personable guys joking around my shabbat table, I couldn’t help but laugh at my old perception. Of course there was some Torah talk, but we also got into a lively discussion about popular music and the genius of Johnny Depp. One of the boys, Akiva Shapiro, is currently serving in Tzahal, the Israeli Army. I knew that there was a significant religious contingency in the army here, but it was wild to hear this polite, white-shirted guy talking about sharpshooting and the best strategies to kill the enemy without getting killed yourself. Needless to say, it was a very entertaining lunch. Our visit to the Kotel yesterday was emotional, as expected. When we got to the wall, majestic no matter how many times I’ve seen it, Shuie and I both made a small rip in our shirts to commemorate the destruction of the Temple. Yonah had fallen asleep in his stroller so Shuie took him over to the men’s side while I made my way over to the women’s. I grabbed a siddur (prayer book) from the bookshelves in the back of the section and made my way up to the Wall. It was exactly as I remembered it, the stones still cool to the touch, tiny bits of paper stuck into every available crack and crevice in the stone (it is a custom to write notes to Gd and stick them into the wall). I began to pray quietly, while behind me a beautiful Israeli woman began praying out loud in Hebrew, asking for health, salvation and many other blessings for all of the people of Israel. Every time she made another request, the rest of the women in the group responded, “Amen”. By the end of her tefilla (prayer), all of the women around me were saying “Amen” to her passionate prayers. At one point, she asked for all people who are sick to be made healthy, and that all people who cannot stand on their legs be enabled to do so. I couldn’t help but think of my mother, who seven months before was standing right where I was, asking Gd for mercy, to send her a full recovery from cancer. I began to cry, not just for her, but for myself, my family, and for all of the Jews in this world who may feel lost, distant, and far from home. I asked Gd to comfort all of us, and to bring us together soon. After our visit to the Kotel, we walked around the old city for a bit (poor Yonah had quite a bumpy ride over the cobblestone streets!), and then headed out to Me’ah Shearim. Me’ah Shearim (Hebrew for “One Hundred Gates”), is the most religious neighborhood in Jerusalem, and all visitors are required to dress modestly before passing through. The streets are VERY skinny, so much so that you have to almost flatten yourself against the wall every time a bus passes through. I wish I could say that Me’ah Shearim is beautiful, but I’d be lying. It’s dirty, cramped and overcrowded, but the people who live there seem to be oblivious to all of it. In fact, the charedim of Me’ah Shearim look like some of the most contented people I have ever seen. We visited a store called “The Olive Wood Tree”, which sells a variety of inexpensive home decor and Judaica all made out of wood. I had to take a few steps down from the streets to get into the store and I found myself in another world: a rustic, woodsy little nook that reminded me of Frodo’s house in “The Lord of the Rings” (that is, if there was a chain-smoking Israeli Jew hanging out in Frodo’s house). After Me’ah Shearim was Ge’ula, a hotspot on Friday mornings and early afternoons, where everyone gathers to run last-minute pre-shabbat errands. We arrived at the tail end of the rush, but still managed to run into my sister-in-law, Tovi, and get a good picture of all the seminary girls and yeshiva boys hanging out before heading off to their hosts’ homes for Shabbat. By the time we got onto the bus in Ge’ula to head home, we realized we had walked almost 3 miles. I don’t need to tell you that last night we slept like babies. Israel is known to be a country of miracles where people run into each other in very crazy circumstances. “You don’t need to take anyone’s phone number,” one of the boys at lunch said today. “You’ll run into them eventually”. We are living proof of this, as we have had three crazy run-ins already. The first time was the other night when we ran into our friends, the newlyweds Leah and Gershon. I had been looking at their wedding pictures not three hours before and wondering aloud to Shuie when we were going to see them, since they lived in a town a half an hour away. A few hours later, we ran into them on Ben Yehudah street. Then, yesterday, we saw Gershon again in the Old City! As we were leaving Jaffa Gate, we heard someone beeping at us. We looked in the car and realized it was our friend Eitan from Teaneck, who just moved back to Israel with his wife and twins. Yesterday morning I had said to Shuie that we should get in touch with Eitan so we could see them. Even if I was a skeptic (which I’m not), I wouldn’t be able to deny the high spiritual frequency here after three auspicious run-ins like that. Back to school tomorrow morning. Sunday is not Sunday in Israel; weekends are Friday and Shabbat. It’s an interesting adjustment, but I find that the weeks go much faster this way. Shuie starts his first day at Ohr Somayach tomorrow, where he’ll be learning in the mornings. It’s only a short distance away, so Shuie bought a bike to take back and forth to school. Despite his excitement, I couldn’t help but grumble that he was able to get a bike but he wouldn’t let me get a scooter. I know it’s not the same thing, but every woman’s entitled to a good, old-fashioned temper tantrum once in a while.