"I love your dress. It's super pretty. Look at that blue! And the color just goes on and on with those leggings underneath the dress. Really nice."
How did she react?
"Oh, thank you! That's so sweet! I love your project!" She got up and gave me a hug.
How did I feel?
Inbar treated my eyes, my belly and my heart. My eyes because she was a feast for those with her sweet smile and her pretty dress. My belly because this one sighed once I filled it with Inbar's dreamy coffee. And my heart because I could not have hoped for a warmer welcome to Jerusalem than her friendliness. Her hug felt like a little showerleft the caffeine oasis she works at and strolled around the neighborhood for a while. If you happen to be in Jerusalem this is where you can find Inbar and her coffee creations and sit in the sun:
When I started this project I promised to turn this page into a travel blog at times. So here you go: My impressions of Jerusalem day number one.
Tomatoes taste sweeter than chocolate. In front of my window there is a palm tree. Ads and posters trigger curiosity: Hebrew looks like a maze from the quiz page to me. The language sounds like people are softly stroking their throats. Humus is paradise. The soldier's guns are the biggest I have ever seen in real life. Rays of sunlight throw the spotlight on street art. The synagogue, located in a corner store, fits twelve men. Their ever nodding heads make for a choreography. Cats scavenge in dumpsters. The smells at the market are more appetizing than a look on a five star restaurant's menu. I overhear teenagers on Birthright fighting over secret imports back to the US. Fresh herbs or Halva? One suggests the "awesome falafel sandwich we had yesterday!". Their tour guide explains his vision of a unified Israel to us. Each time he laughs his freckles smile along. An orthodox lady begs for money. A clerk praises his pastries. I close my eyes. There is a honking fest going on on the street. "S'leexa, s'leexa!", someone touches my shoulder. A girl sings.
More pictures to come! Laila tov.