24 March 2008

The other Friday night, as I was walking to a dinner I was invited to, the full moon was as bright as the surrounding lampposts. At times, the white light reflecting off the near-perfect disc illuminated entire street blocks. Walking past the iconic building housing Belgian Consulate, rabbits were romping through the estate’s backyard. Cadbury bunnies, huge grass-eating long ears that looked out of place amidst the palm trees.

Easter Round One has come and gone, swelling the town with sun burnt Catholics and Protestants. The ongoing language and culture gap between tourists and the natives takes on a new dimension, with old Spanish women screaming at the Sephardi grocery cashiers. This year the pilgrims with wooden crosses on their backs were met with drunken Jews celebrating Purim. A calendrical quirk made the Purim festivities in Jerusalem last close to four consecutive days, though not tiring out the more hardcore rabble-rousers. “Purim bombs,” makeshift fireworks that create a lot of noise, gave palpitations to everyone in a 10-mile radius throughout the weekend. With a heightened security alert, the last thing one wants to see is some overweight yeshiva kid ignite one of these bombs and hear its explosion ricochet through the alleyways. Last night, studying in my apartment was met with heckles in New York English from across the street: a group of yeshiva kids, continuing to fulfill the Tradition of getting intoxicated on Purim, were waiting for a ride. They blocked cars in the street, screamed expletives in an otherwise quiet residential area until midnight, and just as I was reaching to call the Police (my fraternity with Americans has very finite limits), I realized what was going on. The very drunk kids were trying to get their passed-out friend into the car, and hopefully to a hospital. This country can be a kind of Disneyland for many, with the words “Promised” and “Holy” connoting a sense of invincibility.

Spring is slowly creeping in, with the street block by the Prime Minister’s residence smelling like roses (ironic), and campus the other day perfumed in jasmine.