Day 7 Part 2

One of the things that you don't get much of on a tour like ours is free time.  Cramming as much into the few days to see more than can be seen doesn't allow for it.  However, today we get our first taste of free time.  It comes at the right time after leaving Yad Vashem.  

We board the buses again and head to what we are told is the oldest open air market in Jerusalem.  I am excited and intrigued and hungry.  I am hoping they sell something good to eat in this oldest market.  

We park a little ways away from the actual market and we walk a couple of blocks to a very busy street.  It's a little confusing as to where this market is as it doesn't look like a market at first.  Everything does look "old", which is very relative in terms of the fact we have been looking a things thousands of years old.  This is old in the sense of my lifetime.  Probably older than me.

Wow, it is everything you want to experience in a open air market.  Unusual sights, smells, noise, friendly merchants, exotic offerings of spice, tea, nuts, fruit and things I don't know what they are.  Our spirits are lifted as we begin to make our way through the main aisle.  There was a little fear of getting lost, but not to sweat, there isn't a lot of ways to get lost.  

Indiana Jolie is at once energized by the cacophany of sights sounds and smells.  She sees unique buying opportunities for gifts for friends and our kids.  She plunges in and we find the merchants more than accommodating.  "Would you like a taste?  Oh, yes.  This is the finest anywhere." Says the nice Jewish merchant wearing his head covering at a jaunty angle.  

We as always don't have a lot of time and sometime during the foray into the market we are supposed to buy our own lunch.  What to choose?  Unusual bits and samples of this or that?  I do buy some figs to hold me over until we decide what we want to eat.  The guy I bought mine from was a little peeved that I didn't want to buy 10 pounds of figs from him.  Only 6 figs?  Roll of the eyes. Part of the problem is that there is no shop in this area of Jerusalem's oldest market at least that provides a ready made meal. If you want bread you can buy all you want, but if you want some meat on it, you have to go to one of the booths that sells meat.  If you want some cheese, again, you can get all kinds of cheese but that is another booth.  I don't want to insult any of these merchants again by asking for a slice of bread or a slice of cheese.  You get the idea they want you buy in Costco size quantities.

We walk the length of the indoor market and decide to venture out to the outdoor where there are many more people and other things to see.  This might be some sort of special day as there seems to be a parade of people marching down the main aisle of the outdoor market.  They are shouting or chanting in Hebrew and their signs are also in Hebrew so I never get a sense of what they are celebrating or protesting.  

We join friends at a little outdoor restaurant.  They tell us that it as one of the recommended places to eat here.  That's fine with us.  What do they offer?  Fish and chips.  We stand at the counter and place our order.  Since our friends arrived earlier than we did, their order comes out first.  It looks pretty good.

You know how it is when you are hungry and the people you are with get their food first?  You convince yourself you are starving.  It seems to take a long time to get our food and our friends are soon finishing theirs.  One of them cannot eat all the "chips" in their basket and they leave them to be collected by the clean up person who is also the guy making the food.  He picks up their basket and notes that one of the baskets still has the chips in it.  He shrugs, turns to the place where they dump the fries out of the deep fryer and tosses the uneaten chips in with the others right out of the used basket.  We are stunned.  Recycling french fries?  We look at each other. We laugh.  Alot. We wonder aloud how many "recycled" chips they have eaten from someone else's basket.  I suppose it is not a wasteful practice, but probably not a good public health practice.  The American DEC would not approve.  One of our friends is a real germaphobe and he looks visibly ill.  

Our baskets of fish and chips arrives.  I am in a dilemma, I am starving and probably close to the point of death from starvation.  I could refuse to eat my lunch and die or eat it and die.  I decide it is better to die with a full stomach.  I'm not afraid of death, I just don't want it to hurt.  I pray diligently over my meal invoking the gospel of Mark 16. 17:
And these signs will follow those who believe: In My name they will cast out demons; they will speak with new tongues; 18 they will take up serpents; and if they drink [or eat] anything deadly, it will by no means hurt them; they will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover.”
I eat my whole lunch and feel no ill effects.  In fact, I feel great.

We depart our lunch experience making our way back to the main street that we arrived on seeking any interesting wares offered for sale.  I stop in a little T-shirt shop a buy a bootleg Israel Harley Davidson T for $10.  Ha ha!  You don't get HD T-shirts in the states for ten bucks!  I sport my find at dinner that night.  Many nods of approval.  Much jealousy.  I feel special.  Eventually the joke is on me as when we get home and wash the Israel HD T-shirt, it becomes the size of a postage stamp.  At first I couldn't find it but there it was in the lint trap.  There's always a catch.  Maybe my granddaughter, Violet will be able to wear it.  We are soon encouraged to get to our buses, we have a busy afternoon, something about "The Burnt House".  I suppose it will make sense to me when we get there.