The day started with an itch in my throat.
The kind of itch that during Covid era will make one (me) rush to the nearby juice shop to get an elixir of oil of oregano, ginger, lemon, cayenne pepper and turmeric and chug it like it was beer in a Berlin beer garden on a hot summer day.
I then chased my hellish shot of health boost with a green juice, and made my way to my sister's car for a day trip to the city of gold; Jerusalem.
I grew up in Jerusalem, but often as I find myself entering the city made of stones, my eyes are of an outsider. I think I was always an outsider there, in my city of birth. In my city of childhood.
Some epic holiday traffic mixed in with post-covid rage to get on the road made us take a detour on a gorgeous route. A route that took me to an entrance I have never seen before. It felt like changing the side in which one parts their hair: disorienting, but fresh and exciting. A different entry point shifts the way one sees a place: I saw the air a bit lighter in this dense heavy city, I saw the green a touch greener in springtime, and I saw my childhood home and childhood streets from the eyes of an old friend. Remembering. Treasuring. Holding memories close to my heart.
Not many get the gift of re-visiting their childhood home.
My father still lives in mine, so I am grateful that I can re-visit my own child's eyes and the twists and turns and hiding spots I made when I was little. And having my sisters along with me - just made my visit all the more sentimental.
After a delicious meal of roasted potatoes and yams with cherry tomatoes and loads of garlic, a light fish with zucchini, garlic and lemon broth, hummus, and salad with - you guessed it - garlic, we made our way to the old city for an afternoon stroll through the alleyways, the rooftops and my beloved Muslim market. The sounds of the Muezzin (the Arabic call for prayer) and the church bells greeted us as we passed through Zion Gate into the city walls. It was busier than ever because of the holiday and it was both stressful and pleasing to see the city back to life.
We sipped on carrot juice, admired birds, drank sweet mint tea and walked through the old Ethiopian church that is just by the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. We came back to the house and our car full, happy, light and rich with sentimental vibes.
The day ended with loads of tea, a cup of soup, and... another itch in my throat.
Much like the one at the start of the day.
But between these two book ends?
Between these two itches - A WHOLE WORLD PASSED THROUGH.
In April 2020, while experiencing her first ever global pandemic, Tamar Pelzig pledged to write something every day, even if it's only a word, so she welcomed to the world a daily blog to keep her creative writing wheels rolling.
Header Art: Daniel Landerman