Lost . . .

Yes, this is late.

It's been a busy couple of weeks.

Saturday night, July 21, was Tisha B'Av (the 9th day of the Hebrew month Av), a day that will live in infamy for the Jewish people. The list of calamities that occurred on that date goes all the way back to Biblical times.

The Hebrew slaves left Egypt in the month of Nissan, roughly April on the solar calendar. Seven weeks later they reached Mt Sinai and received the 10 Commandments. There followed a period of about a year during which a portable tabernacle was built. When it was completed they were ready to set out for the Promised Land. The distance from Sinai to the Promised Land was only a matter of a few weeks. So far so good. When they got close to the border, Moses sent 12 scouts to scope out the land they were about to enter. When they returned from their reconnaissance mission 10 of the 12 reported to Moses that the land was unconquerable. It was inhabited by giants who would wipe out the Jewish people. When news of the report spread throughout the encampment people were distraught and, not for the first time, said why did we leave Egypt? Slavery might not have been a picnic, but at least we weren't going to be crushed like bugs. These same people had witnessed the 10 Plagues, the splitting of the Reed Sea (not a typo - the actual name of the sea is Reed, not Red), they'd eaten manna and fought the Amalakites and won. But when 10 of the 12 scouts reported a land of giants, they fell apart. Well, this was the last straw for the Ruler of the universe. If the people who left Egypt and experienced all those miracles didn't have faith that they would prevail in the land that was promised to them ... well, that generation simply didn't get to inherit the land. That's why it took another 38 years of wandering in the desert; the slave generation had to be replaced by a new generation that didn't know Egypt. And when did all this crying and complaining take place? Yup, the 9th of Av.

Other notable events that occurred on that fateful date:

Both Temples were destroyed. The first in 586 BCE, the second in 70 CE.

The Battle of Beitar, the final losing battle of the revolt against Rome.

In 1095 CE the first crusade was declared. Crusades weren't very good for the Jews; hundreds of thousands were killed by crusaders on their way to the holy land.

In 1290 CE the Jews were expelled from England, and in 1492 from Spain.

The liquidation of the Warsaw Ghetto began in 1942.

And for anyone who doesn't believe in coincidences ... 9/11. The 11th month of the Hebrew calendar is Av.

So with all these events to commemorate, the 9th of Av is a national day of mourning and a fast day. Although observed by Jews worldwide, the date has a more visceral feeling here in Israel. We can actually see where these events happened. It begins at sunset with reading the Book of Lamentations, and there are some very creative locations where this takes place; it's not just in synagogues. There are public readings at the Western Wall, at a promenade overlooking the Old City, and at Herodium (see last week's post), from where the flames of the fires that burned Jerusalem were visible. And for the past 24 years an organization called Women in Green has sponsored a reading of Lamentations in Independence Park followed by a walk around the Old City Walls. We never knew about the walk; we're never here in the summer. So we had to go and it was quite an event. Several hundred people participated, and all the streets along the route were blocked. Naturally there was a large police presence and very few onlookers. Women in Green is a Zionist movement dedicated to safeguarding the Biblical Jewish homeland.

Setting off from Independence Park

Speeches at the end. Too many speeches at the end. It was around midnight.

On Monday the 23rd we went to the Hebrew Music Museum. Sounds boring as hell, right? Well, next time you are in Jerusalem be sure to visit, and don't do the self-guided tour, go with a docent. The museum itself is gorgeous and the collection of instruments is eye-popping. The plus of going on a decent tour is that you get to play the instruments. It was delightful.

Plaza outside the Museum.
Half a dozen great restaurants + an art installation.

This is a "psantranit", which is a precurser to the piano.
It's a72-string instrument described in the Book of Daniel.
There were 12 of these used in the Temple.

This is a Jericho trumpet, as in the walls came tumbling down.
It was also used in the Temple.
The example above comes from Bukhara and sounds like the Swiss horns in the Ricola commercial.

This stringed instrument is a camenche and is covered in fish skin.
The thinking is this is the kind of lyre played by King David.

The flutes on the right are of the type played by King David; also used in the Temple.

Yeminite shofar

This kid was adorable.
He was "volunteered" by his parents when the docent asked if someone wanted to play the instruments.
That's why you want to take a docent-led tour. 

This is a bagpipe. They were made of small goats or cows, and used by merchants in Egypt and Persia to announce their arrival in local markets. The sound is very much like a Scottish bagpipe.

Wood ceiling in the Moroccan room. Hand carved in Morocco by the King's master craftsmen. 

No reason why kids should have all the fun.

The final part of the tour was an astounding virtual reality experience. It was a tour and explanation of the Temple.

And then the roof fell in.

We got home and I couldn't find my American phone. The Samsung 8, which isn't even a year old. We tore the house apart. Then I reconstructed our steps. I know I had it at the museum. From the museum we stopped at a grocery store. Then home. Could I have left it at the museum? The grocery store? I called the museum and they didn't have it. We walked back to the grocery store and they didn't have it. I was beyond inconsolable. The phone is gone, and with it a lot of data that I wouldn't want anyone to get their hands on. I called AT&T and had them block the number. Then I got busy changing all my passwords.

And apparently losing a phone wasn't enough for one day. I was checking emails and lo and behold I had one from Nordstrom. There's no reason to get a Nordstrom bill, since the last time I was there was in May. I opened the bill and saw a $716 charge. No way was this possible. So I called and explained that I'm out of the country and there had to be a mistake. The guy I spoke to checked and said my card was swiped at the Nordstrom on Michigan Avenue on June 26 ... for a pair of designer shoes. How could this be? My Nordstrom card is safely tucked away in Chicago. Well, it seems that my card was due to expire and they sent a new one. Apparently someone got hold of it, activated it and used it. But very cleverly. I have an $750 spending limit, and the charge was just below that threshold. The really bad part was that in order to activate the card whoever took it had to know my social security number. And he or she obviously knows my address, and with the internet it's not hard to find my date of birth. So my next call was to Experion to put a block on my credit report. There's someone out there who could be opening all kinds of credit cards in my name. I've been monitoring my accounts and so far haven't noticed anything odd. But I wouldn't know about any new cards.

Needless to say, I was devastated. This was too much for one day. But it was only one day of a week that was too busy to sweat the small stuff.

On Tuesday we went on a tiyul (outing) to a place called Ga'ash. I'd never heard of it. It's a kibbutz located over a natural mineral spring near Netanya. It's a big attraction for everybody, and I do mean everybody. Old and young. Families. Jews and Arabs. The ultimate melting pot. It was the first time I saw women (Jews and Arabs) in burkinis, which are modestly designed swimming suits.

On the way home we stopped at the music museum, hoping maybe someone found the phone. No luck.

On Wednesday the 25th we met our friends Doris and Norm Levitz and Timna Hurwich for lunch. Doris and Norm are, literally, the accidental immigrants. They came here for Passover and never went home. Fortunately they have someone back in Chicago who is taking care of emptying and selling their house. And they have kids, grandchildren and great-grandchildren here who are taking very good care of them as they settle in. At least one of the kids comes over every day. They are waiting to move into a retirement complex in Shoresh, which is a kibbutz about 15 minutes outside of Jerusalem. Kibbutzim these days aren't just agricultural and manufacturing. They have diversified, and several have gone into the geriatric business. Doris and Norm both look fabulous and are very happy with how things unfolded.

And on Thursday the 26th my niece and nephew, Jenny and Dave, arrived from London. The first place they wanted to go was the shuk, of course. In the evening we went to an amazing dance performance at the Jerusalem Theatre - Flamenco and Classical Spanish.

We took a fascinating walking tour of the Tower of David on Friday morning. Things I learned ... 

It's called the Tower of David, even tho it was built long after King David. Medieval Christians toured the area with their bibles and knew that King David ruled from the "high place". This was a high place with a tower. Unfortunately the tower was a minaret, and the "high place" King David ruled from was across town. But the name stuck.

It was mostly a palace built by Herod, after he reconstructed the Second Temple. Ever the politician who used architecture to make political statements, he built his palace on a hill that was slightly higher than the Temple Mount, and it had the same dimensions as the Temple. The message was unmistakable - I'm the boss.

The moat around the palace never had water (understandable in a desert) or wild animals. The purpose was an early warning system. The moat is too narrow to be effective in an attack. The walls angle outward for a better defensive line of sight. 

Water was always an important feature in Herod's buildings. He was able to channel underground springs into the cisterns that held water for drinking and for his pools and bathhouses. 

I always thought the word kishle was Turkish for prison. Turns out it means barracks. During the 500 year Turkish occupation, they built a police station and barracks. That same police station was used by the British who followed the Turks, and by the Israel police today. The barracks were used by the British as a prison during their rule here. 

The archaeological dig at the site has been slow-going, but they've dug down to 1st Temple times, again confirming various portions of the Bible.

I'd love to post photos, but I couldn't get my Israeli phone to work. 

And so the week ended ... stay tuned for the next installment.

From Jerusalem,

Peggy and Sid