After the shopping trip to Machaneh Yehudah, I exited through an unfamiliar alleyway and ended up taking a longer, scenic route home. After a few blocks I noticed that I was the only non-Chasid on the street. A bit nervous as I was wearing Gap khakis and Rosa's short-sleeved American Eagle top, I nonetheless plowed ahead. "It's my city, too!" I mentally pep-talked myself.
No worries, however. Nobody seemed to mind my strange Western garb (If I had been wearing shorts and a tank top I might have received a different response.) and my uncovered, natural head of hair (such as it is). One would not, however, want to attempt a stroll through Mea She'arim (enclosed Chasidic/Ultra-Orthodox neighborhood) in such a getup.
Travel tip: You know you're nearly out of a religious neighborhood when you look in the dry cleaner windows and there's something hanging up that's not black and/or white.
This is, in general, a very child-oriented society. Guess the 12-kids-per-Chasid thing tends to bring a family friendly spirit to a place. But a difference between this and other socially conservative cultures is the full involvement of the men in parenting -- maybe the up side to the non-employed status of many of the Ultra-Orthodox men is that they spend their days pushing strollers and doing playground duty. There are just as many little children clinging to the men as to the women. Even the secular dads sport baby slings and carriers. And people just seem to enjoy children: last time we were here we would be constantly be accosted by Israelis looking at 6-year-old Rosa with a smile, declaring "Eyzeh Chamudah!" ("What a cutie!") And she is a Chamudah still!
The weather changed about every 35 seconds as I wandered through the northern neighborhoods of the city but the wind was pretty persistent. On several occasions I caught young men attempting to recurl their sidelocks with their fingers or at least hold them together with their hands. Yes - a place where only the men have bad hair days!
Next up . . . back to the Old City . . .
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In America in the 1930's no man would be seen pushing a carriage. My father, if pressured into taking Herb out of the way so my mother could clean the apartment, would sneak out and leave the neighborhood so he would not be seen.
ReplyDeleteHe was unemployed most of the time and rather than stay at home he would go downtown and pretend he had a job to go to.
Different time, different mores (I think that means "folkways of central importance accepted without question and embodying the fundamental moral views of a group.")
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Ok, I know that I will get flack for this, but I still think it looks a bit weird to see men pushing the strollers, etc... here in LA all I seem to see are the obligatory spanish speaking (probably illegal - it's a "don't ask, don't tell" society here) nannies with their charges, and the grey haired dads with the pre-schoolers. My guess is that they may be retired and are now spending time with their second (or third... hey, this is Hollywood)offspring while their much younger wives enjoy careers.
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