Robyn Toppal, who was just on the DC group touring Israel, shares her own personal mitzvah on the trip! As Robyn and I talk about the highlights of our trip, one thing stands alone. A few days after arriving in Jerusalem, we met the hotel gift shop owner while Robyn was trying to buy a stamp from him. His store was closed during the day in observance of Ramadan so we only got to find him at night. He had no stamps but offered to send Robyns postcard on his own. We began a relationship with him that lasted several days. We would talk to him about being Muslim in a very observantly kosher hotel, being Muslim in Jerusalem - we shared ideas and views and began invigorating sales for him through our group after hearing many refuse to patronize his store because he is Muslim. Omar, quickly became a friend of ours and we enjoyed chatting with him at the end of our days. A few days ago Robyn and I shopped at the Cardo, an outdoorish open air market that leads relatively quickly we learned while there into a much more uncomfortable Muslim quarter on the other side of the wall. We walked and shopped and talked before it became relatively clear to us that we forgot the traveling cardinal rule...maintain awareness of your surroundings at all time. The women were clearly more dressed and many in hijabs, Israel souvenirs turned to Palestine, tourists were dwindling and Hebrew changed to Arabic. As it occurred to us that we werent in Kansas anymore, we decided to turn around. An Arabic tune spilled out from a merchant when Robyn wiggled a small festive dance in the aisle that prompted shouting from a Muslim to stop dancing. As she moved forward apologizing, he grabbed my arm, told me to get out and take my friend out. I raced up to get Robyn and moved quickly forward. We could not find the exit - its like an outdoor maze of chaos, unwelcomed stares and little help. Robyn wanted to go back the way we came but I was not wanting to cross paths with that merchant again. With aisles only a few feet wide, and lanes going out at every direction, there was no way to find the light of an exit. Few people directed us by finger pointing but most ignored or turned away from us. By this time, we were not just the only tourists but the only women without our faces and heads covered. Finally we found the light of day and as my panic was at high, Robyn felt relatively safe. We both decided one of us is either overreacting or one of us is under reacting but together we were a good balance. As we hit the street, not a single cab would pick us up. We searched everywhere for a way out of there and started walking, practically begging for a taxi when crossing the street, a beacon of light dressed as a our Muslim gift shop owner showed up yelling - Ladies! Ladies! What are you doing here??? He came to us, we were upset, lost and confused like two Jews from quite literally, the desert only ours was four hours not 40 years. He hugged us, calmed us and gently got us a cab. As we rode back to our hotel we remained a bit speechless. Amid the loathing and hate between our people, Omar became the light out. When we broke down preconceived feelings about us by connecting and helping him, it came back full circle to us. No good deed goes undone. We saw beyond his beliefs, gave him business and by making the connection, he later became our hero. As Maryanna Walls would say, Baruch Hashem.
Posted on: Thu, 10 Jul 2014 19:08:12 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015