From Tel Aviv to Jerusalem - Sundown

(Mural arts in a back alley behind Rothschild Boulevard in Tel Aviv.)

Israelis work hard and play hard. The morning after the wedding, I got up at sunset and started working from my hotel room. My colleagues at the start-up on Rothschild Boulevard were waiting for my input. Rothschild Boulevard is sometimes called Silicon Boulevard because there are so many tech start-ups. It’s also the place where, I heard, the Occupy Tel Aviv protests started last year. I know this sounds cheesy but when I walked around the neighborhood after a meeting at our offices there, I felt the special vibe.

(Cafe 12 on Rothschild 12 in Tel Aviv, a cool coffee bar with a Mission District-like atmosphere and a bourgeois-bohemien crowd. My favorite! :-)) 

I finished my work and decided I would follow my heart and go with the flow the next 36 hours. I wanted to feel drunk with new experiences and impressions. I had lunch with a friend at Tel Aviv port and strolled around the farmer’s market with him. The local vegetables and fruits were unlike anything I had ever seen before. I tasted the sun in the figs, the moon in the fish and the earth in the olive oil (the latter not quite literally). Even local California produce – you know how highly I think of it – can’t beat the produce from the Middle East. 

(Jerusalem.)

In the afternoon, I left the hotel on Kaufman Boulevard and started driving towards Jerusalem. I wanted to be there by the time the sun would be going down. I wanted to experience the start of the Shabbat on my own or maybe just with the Master of the Universe by my side...

(Walking from the Jewish quarter to the Arab quarter of Jerusalem.)

(Arab alley in Jerusalem.)

(Around 6 PM, people started frantically entering the Old City of Jerusalem. Most of them wanted to be at the Wailing Wall by the start of Shabbat.) 

(The sun is down. It's time to rest.)

In Jerusalem, almost everyone seemed to want to know if I was married. The bellhop, the guy who helped me park my car, the Arab taxi driver. I may have told you before about my one-woman international grassroots campaign. I try to convince people worldwide that gays (and lesbians and bisexual and transgender people) are exactly like straight people. Perhaps just a little bit nicer. When the Arab taxi driver smiled from cheek to cheek and asked me about my marital status, I said a little recklessly: “Yes, of course I am married. To a woman.” He beamed excitedly like a little boy. What a surprise! “So that is possible in the country where you come from? Two women? Wow! Nice, nice!” And then he turned his head back to me and asked shyly: “But… can I ask you a question? Do you mind? Well… tell me… when there are two women, who is the boss at home?”


(To be continued! There is still more to tell!)