There are two kinds of Yidden in the world. Well, really three.
Those who live in Yerushalayim, those who want to live in Yerushalayim, and those who couldn’t care less. The reason I only count two is because the latter Yid is be’etzem nichlall in one of the first two, only he hasn’t touched the magic yet. Like Shlomo says, just wait, wait, wait… The third type of Yid pashut hasn’t experienced the magic yet. So, what is the magic? How does one touch it? Where does one find it?
Tourists, visitors, and friends from CHU”L or the rest of Eretz Yisroel who visit Yerushalayim often come here searching for some sort of experience. And although more ofthen than not they cannot verbalize what it is they are searching for, I suspect that it is just this magic that I speak of. So, where can they find something special here? How can they feel the uniqueness of the city? Where can the magic be found?
The truth is, that the City of Gold as spun by raconteurs of old exists today only in the upper spheres, in Heaven. Yerushalayim shel mattah has simply lost much of it’s defining characteristics and characters, to our great misfortune. The himmel Yidden we’ve heard so much about, the Moshe’le the milkman Zavel’eh the treiger, have by and large passed on to Yerushalayim shel maaleh. True, there exist small nooks and crannies where echoes of those virtuous souls can be found. But unless you know precisely whom to look for and where to look, most of us are more likely than not to pass them by. So we must settle for the considerably less attractive option of touching the magic by experiencing it’s residual effects. Like witnessing the vestigial expressions of wonderment of an audience after having viewed a stupefying illusion, we are forced to make do with encountering the aftereffects of the effect. In essence, what I’m saying here is that there is no direct method for us to tap the magic. Hopefully, the below sites shall serve as a kind of spiritual theater, and offer some stratagems for accessing some of the nitzotzos that persist in Yerushalayim, even as they are relentlessly persecuted, left with increasingly few accommodations of asylum.
Obviously, just as the sparks of magic must, perforce, be sought in specific locations, so too must they be sought at the prime periods. The easiest and most convenient time where the sparks are most viably accessed is, of course, Shabbos. Below find a list of sorts of some of the less obvious places to find the sparks.
One final note, dear holiness prospector; just as gold can only be known by the application of the touchstone, so too can emese nitzotzos only be recognized by one who seeks them in earnest. Such sparks cannot, by their very nature, be divined by one who does not entertain, at least to some extent, the notion that all must be sacrificed in pursuit of the Divine.
The Fields of Meah Shearim:
Like fields of gold, only sparkling here and there with diamonds in the rough. Take a stroll here as the sun fights his losing battle with the twinkling Yerushalmi evening sky and with the rigors and fatigue of the week gone by. Be sure to move slowly, to take it all in. The aura, the vibe; the unique mood tone here is the bar by which all Shabbosim must be set. Kleineh yingelach with freshly waxed peyos roam the streets, playing games with their younger and older siblings. The young maidelach, all sporting neatly braided tzibelach, play jump rope or some other simple game. Men walking to Kabbolas Shabbos in their shiny zebras (striped caftans), can be observed heatedly reviewing the events of the week, the upcoming hafganohs, and of course, divrei Torah.
Gerrer Tisch:
Colloquially known as Gerrorists in Yershalayim, there is little love lost for this particular specimen of chosid, especially since the 2010 Porush/Barkat election bilbul. Chareidi infighting aside, the Gerrers constitute the largest bloc contingent of chassidim in Yerushalayim, and as such, when the Rebbe joins his Jerusalem flock for Shabbos (typically Shabbos Mevorchim) and makes tisch, it makes for quite the scene. Thousands and thousands of spudik crowned men, all swaying back and forth… think the Siyum HaShas maariv, only now with uniform synchronicity of both sartorial regalia and swaying rhythm.
Batei Broyde Shechunah and Shtible:
De riguer for the innumerable, insufferable walking tour groups is passing through this little corner of Yerushalayim that the world and time has passed by. Uncluttered by modernity and untainted by the modernishe, it is the ultimate quaint and charming expression of your Yiddishe Bubbe. As close to the shtetl as you can get, in one of Hashem’s jokes of irony it is situated immediately behind Nachlaot, that heart of holy hippelach. The main shul of this shechunah has an ethereal, haunting feel to it. Open a sefer and lean here here for a bit, or chap a schmooze with one of the many residents- it is probable he or she will have been born there, and have no desire to ever leave those four amos of kedushah.
Groise Shul of Zichron Moshe:
Shchunas Zichron Moshe, located just off Malchei Yisroel (a.k.a. Geulah) is, like many neighborhoods in Yerushalayim, named after its shtieblach. World famous for its hustle and bustle and close proximity to the shopping establishments just minutes away, the Groise Shul (main Beis HaKnesses) is not noted for its distinctive architecture, nor for its chazzan or Rov. True, it was here that Dayan Fisher presided, if you will, and here that he made his pulpit and home, but Zichron Moshe is sui generis in that Dayan Fisher created a different sort of home here. Within these ancient walls and on these timeworn and worn oak pews reside much more than simple prayers or dog-eared siddurim. Many years ago, Rav Yisroel Yakov Fisher instituted a policy that has, not without considerable effort, remained in effect ad hayom hazeh. It stated that any ani or evyon, no matter his mental or physical matzav, may make his home within the four walls of the shtieblach. Countless aniyim have taken advantage of the largesse of this rather blanket policy, and indeed, many move in, blankets, bags, and all. Come here on a Friday night and watch the hordes of bochurim schmoozing in the lull between Kabbolas Shabbos and Maariv, stop by on Shabbos afternoon for some for some of the free refreshments no doubt tendered by someone in honor of yahrtzeit, spend some time reviewing the patchkevilles and modaos plastered en masse on the nearby wall, or simply catch a minyan- whatever you do, don’t miss this one. As one outsider described it; “this place has got to be the heartbeat of Yiddishkeit in Yerushalayim”.
I must say that I feel it a chiyuv to warn the olam that once the magic has done its work on you, you will be forever changed. Come, see the city, its amazing people and sights… but once you do, you may never be able to leave.
Caveat emptor.
