Lior is currently in Jerusalem, learning at the Pardes Institute of Jewish Studies. Lior wrote the below text and made a serie of photos that capture the mood in the city. Note: The video of the commissioning of the torah scroll dedicated to the hostages by the family of hostage Hersh Goldberg-Polin was shared in our whatsapp group on July 18.
Zion is forlorn
Alas,
Lonely sits the city
Once great with people!
She that was great among nations
Is become like a widow;
The princess among states
Is become a thrall.
Lamentations 1:1/איכה
Jerusalem is quiet; her streets and markets are (mostly) empty and she, while not quite a thrall, is forsaken for less threatened climes. The old city isn’t thronged with tourists, the Muslim and Christian Quarters are almost deserted, though the Western Wall Plaza is full of people praying and stuffing supplicatory notes into the crevices between the golden stones. The merchants and shopkeepers in the alleys of the Old City seem sad and resigned to their looming economic straits; no one is buying their tchotchkes, knickknacks, souvenirs, or underpants (ten pairs for 60nis). We cautiously exchange views on the situation; “it shouldn’t have happened” they tell me, “we are paying the price for the violence, no one is here, we have families to feed, we are worried, we feel your pain, we want peace.” The recurring refrain is “We want peace.” The atmosphere feels tense and sad.
Yellow Ribbons
There are yellow ribbons everywhere; on trees, lampposts, car doors, bicycles, prams, pushchairs, wheelchairs, hats, bags, and t-shirts. Half the vendors in the shuk are selling Bring Them Home dog-tags and yellow wrist bands, along with the ubiquitous yellow ribbon pins. Bring Them Home stickers and billboards are in almost every neighbourhood I’ve wandered through – the notable exceptions being Mea She’arim and Ohel Moshe – and ‘Bring Hirsh Home’ is tagged on everything from buses to dumpsters. Small children chalk it on the pavement, teens write it on their shoes and school bags, adults wear t-shirts emblazoned with the lament. My morning route (just 1.5km) to my classes at Pardes takes me past more than a hundred posters with the names and faces of the hostages; it is not easy to look at them every day and to allow the grief and sadness to be present for just a moment but that flash of hurt is what propels people to action and keeps the hostages on the front pages of the papers and as the focus for the protests.
The weekly demonstrations outside Bibi’s official residence are very noisy; the anger, grief and sense of hurt and abandonment are palpable. This is a grief that gnaws at your bones and raises welts on your soul. There is some balm to be found in community; the Week of Goodness organised by the families of the hostages was very powerful and gave people an outlet; a way to help and not feel quite so helpless. I was at the dedication of a Torah Scroll for Hirsh; his mother Rachel Goldberg spoke so movingly and so powerfully; people wept and we prayed for the safe return of all the hostages. Now. עכשיו
