Homesick For Jerusalem

This is the first time in four summers that I have not lived in Jerusalem. I know that my grandmother, never happy about my travels to the Middle East, is delighted but I am sad. Trading email the past few months with everyone from Aeli, my housemate from Rehov Amatzia to Sabrina, my ulpan chevruta (Hebrew class study partner) from Hebrew University has reminded me of so many things that became central to my Israeli life these past few years:
•shopping in the shuk (open-air market) each Friday morning before Shabbat
•riding the bus through Jerusalem to get to summer school or to visit friends, my fellow passengers everyone from religious women always eating stone fruit with their countless young children in tow to eighteen-year-old army kids carrying semi-automatic weapons
•shopping at my favorite jewelry store Turquoise925 on Yoel Solomon Street where Yitzik and Lev would let me try endless pieces of one-of-a-kind handcrafted jewelry from artists throughout the Middle East
•demanding that taxi drivers actually turn on the meter since haggling over cab fare is pointless because it always costs exactly the same amount of money to get anywhere (twenty shekels) whether you argue with them about it or not
•sitting in the Space That Sees in the sculpture garden at the Israel Museum, my back against the cool flat marble and my eyes intent on the slice of sky above to reveal to me the answers to all my many questions

I know I will return to Jerusalem soon but that does not mean I don't miss it now. Recently two colleagues of mine have returned from the Land and each has shared her travels with me in a unique way. Batshir brought me a new yarmulke from The Kippah Man on Rehov Yaffo, a beautiful green purple blue yellow pink black one that she and Renee picked together, and Sarah sent me a photograph of my note to God being placed in the cracks of the Kotel. I feel like these reminders both reassure my heart and whet my appetite, and I know now how Dorothy felt trying to use her ruby slippers to get back to Kansas. Do you think it works with filthy green Chaco sandals?

There's no place like home, there's no place like home…