Ashkenazi”, they said, pointing at me, “Why else would she wear a mask over her nose and mouth?”. “You’re Anglo”, smirked an interchangeable interlocutor, “that’s the only reason you don’t send to gan/act normal/want to lick my ice cream”. If you were seeking to pigeonhole us according to some structuralist anthropological study, we’d be the isolationists. Seemingly only dimly aware that there is still a pandemic - “But Corona ended in May!”, expostulated one childminder to her client - most Israelis appear to be managing trippingly, even if on the back of some Gothic-style governance. Bars and nightclubs were opened while caps on wedding and funeral attendees remained. Those who didn’t take to hermit life were invited to join the moshpit of the political protests. The whimsically changing regulations are a daily reminder that yes, frustratingly, we are in the Middle East. Ahead of the curve at the beginning, Israel is now struggling terribly with infection, all because no one here likes to keep rules. Such faith! Although my sanity-meter is bursting for some green dell to frolic over without tripping over five non-masked families holding their bi-weekly mangal, I do feel very fortunate to be here. There needs to be a more pressing reason to extricate me from this most omphalos of the world. I’m not asking for one, thank you.
Why is Jerusalem different (under lockdown) from all other cities? Sharon Blaukopf What could be so different about lockdown in Israel or, more precisely, in Jerusalem? Goodness gracious me, banks offering special facilities (free!) to those of the third age, or the golden age as it’s termed hereabouts. For a bank in Israel to offer anything without a charge is amazing, practically a miracle. The municipality has been delivering meals to old people. Before Pesach, Chabad popped up with “Seder-in-a-Box”. I had not actually ordered such a treat, but nonetheless one day I nearly tripped Page 25
