JAFFA STREET

(This was written a few months back)

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JAFFA STREET

Jaffa Street was clearly the best street on earth today. The morning sun was a fist punching through any bullshit and each ray was a declaration: “Shut the fuck up - everything is amazing”. And everything was amazing. The crisp sun slapped sense into the yawning world. It slapped sense into everyone on the street. What a street. There was bustle. There was noise. And there were people, each a part of the sun’s hullabaloo. A Breslov chassid was playing guitar and wailing a tune. A crowd of people stopped work to sing with him. Some guy stopping to blow a shofar. A little further along, some middle aged working class guys were in a restaurant singing Yom Huledet to a friend as a sparkling candle cream cake was introduced. Packs of girls roamed about singing and dancing in the city - excited just to be Jewish - as the light railway train jangling its bell smiled past the revellers. As I transferred from sitting drinking coffee to walking, dilapidated buildings beside renovated railway tracks still shone with freshness in their ancient happy decay. Then later, after escalator and steps, after I got my ticket, on the train leaving Jerusalem, looking at the deep cut rock hills, smiling to myself. Can’t believe we’re here. Can’t believe we’re home. It seems no one can still believe it. It’s true what they said: we will be like dreamers.