Falafels and Zohans: A Year in Israel

A quiet time


For once, the balagan has ceased.  All roads are bare, all businesses are closed and there is not a sound to be heard other than the birds and the whirr of the air conditioning. Even TV channels and phone-calls have ceased until after sundown.  It is Yom Kippur; here the most religious day of the year, and also the quietest.  I was taken aback by my boss a couple of days ago, when she advised ‘Stay inside or else you’ll be shot’.
Yom Kippur, for those of you that may not know, is a day for all Jews to deny themselves of usual activities: food, sleep, work, travel and any form of home entertainment. From sundown last night until sundown tonight, the majority of people here deny themselves of if not all, then most of these elements and in doing so, repent for their sins from the past year. 

Having basically ignored Yom Kippur for the past few years, when a career and lifestyle in London flattened my commitment with a pair of Kurt Geiger strappies, this time I decided to take part in the hibernation.  And even though the stillness out there resembles something not much unlike a Steven Spielberg Twilight Zone episode, it is undeniably peaceful and serene now that the air is free of car engines, chatter, music, television and ringtones.  It’s also a weight off when you absolutely can’t and there’s no pressure to go about your normal routine.  Being chained to your home for one day really isn’t so bad. 

I’ve already cleaned the flat from top to bottom and have a stack of paperwork to organise later on.  Hunger is definitely a problem, but knowing that everyone else is also staying in and feeling faint makes it a little better.  Everyone here is connected in their commitment to their faith.  It’s a phenomenon I have never encountered before, for an entire nation to respect and follow such practices. Britain is essentially a land of mixed nationalities and while this is also a great thing, it does prohibit the extent to which all people can act as one at exactly the same moment in time. Alien invasion-permitting, possibly.

But to add weight to the tone of this piece, for I must, there were other, more specific reasons why I chose to take today seriously; events that took place at the start of this year that I never saw coming and which shocked me to the core.  When you let someone down that you care about so much, it is a legacy that stays with you. They may forgive you. Either with words but not their heart, or in their heart but not with words. But they will never forget.  When everything you know is pulled out from underneath you and ceases to exist, was the time we spent together just a dream? Life has moved on for both of us, but as I stare out of my window and take in the stillness of the usually sandal-beaten street, I think of you.