Shabbat

And peace begins to descend over Jerusalem.
A week of hustling in a new city, a new language, a new culture. Seeking housing, banking (don't get me started on trying to transfer money here), buses, connections: all those small battles have left me weary and in need of the peace promised by Shabbat.

When you live here, you begin to take the Shabbat cycle for granted. "You mean every city doesn't revolve around the day of rest? Chicagoans, Latvians, Chinese don't gleefully race about Friday morning doing Shabbat prep?



The 'Shabbat shalom!' greetings that begin  Thursday? The bakery tables loaded with challah and shabbat delicacies? The Saudis, the Vietnamese, the Irish do not have this? The Scots, the Dutch, the Minnesotans don't ease peaceably into the start of Shabbat as buses and noises and hub-bub stops?"

No. It only happens here. It is lovely to sit at a sunny window overlooking this beautiful, eternal city; to be a part of my people in the one and only Jewish country in the world; and, to ease peaceably and blissfully into the peace of Shabbat.