
Steve Evans (flickr.com/photos/babasteve/3618157129/)
I remember my first walk through the old city of Jerusalem. My body was jet-lagged, walking with two of my best friends. We started going down famed King David Street, and before long it was a scene I had never seen before. The streets were so narrow and crowded that you had to squeeze your way through. The men were yelling loudly in Arabic, and some of the women were fully veiled in dark black. Lining the streets as far as the eye could see were small garage shops selling wooden camels, hookahs, and fancy chess boards. For the record, camels do not live anywhere around Jerusalem.
The second the shopkeepers realized that three Americans were walking towards them, we heard a constant echo of a broken English, “Hello, hello, shopping? Shopping? English, shopping? Hello?” After about twenty minutes wandering lost through this new chaos we arrived at a bright green door that led to a clearing. It seemed like the best way out and we were ready to leave the claustrophobic streets behind. When we were just a few feet away from walking through the door, we were turned away by two confused armed guards yelling harshly at us in Arabic and pointing their guns up in the air. Read more…