Jerusalem and Tel Aviv—one is the capital of prayers while the other is the startup capital. These two cities are the yin and yang of Israel, delicately balancing each other out.
Israeli author and journalist Amos Oz in his memoir A Tale of Love and Darkness describes Tel Aviv as the antithesis of Jerusalem. He writes, “There were great sportsmen in Tel Aviv. And there was the sea, full of bronzed Jews who could swim. Who in Jerusalem could swim? These were different genes. A mutation.” Studying these mutated genes is like watching the lives of brothers separated at birth growing up in very different households.
To explore these two cities like the locals do, I choose to venture out on Fridays, when the religious weekend kicks in. That is when the truest forms of the cities become evident.
It is a Friday, both in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem it is time for last-minute grocery shopping. It is most probably the one habit that unites Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. People converge on the market to purchase vegetables, spices, nuts, fruits, and bags and bags of pita bread to tide over the weekend when markets and grocery stores will remain shut across the country.
Around 3pm, shops close and people greet each other with: Shabbat Shalom. The weekend has begun.
It is around 4pm on Friday, the entire country is going into hibernation and will mostly remain indoors until Sunday morning. In Tel Aviv this idleness will be far less pronounced with people heading out to parks, public squares, cafes etc. In Jerusalem, once shabbat sets in, people will emerge from their homes, for the most part, only on Sunday morning.
When the bus service stops in Tel Aviv, yellow shared taxis take over and ferry people from cafes to beaches and maybe, finally home late in the night. The rest of the country and Jerusalem may have shut for shabbat, but in Tel Aviv, you will have to make reservations in restaurants and start early to keep those reservations because taxis are harder to get during the weekend.
It is just as hard to find a good spot on the beach if one does not arrive early enough. The beaches here attract more crowds during the weekends with swathes of the beach being taken over by people playing beach sports such as volleyball and an all Israeli sport called matkot played with hard paddles and a small plastic ball. It is not just the beach that is busy on weekends, even the promenades are crowded with athletic Tel Avivans who continue to run, jog and cycle come rain, shine or shabbat.
Of the two siblings separated at birth, Jerusalem was perhaps brought by a disciplinarian guardian. It takes shabbat more seriously than its whimsical sibling, Tel Aviv.
Jerusalem wears a deserted look when the majority of the city’s residents retreat into their homes for the weekend. With the bus and light rail (tram) services shut and operating vehicles forbidden during shabbat, roads are safe for kids to play a game of ball.
In fact, the light rail route in Jerusalem becomes the de facto walking route for people heading to or back.
As the sun sets, men in black suits, women dressed in long back skirts head to the Western Wall plaza where they gather to offer prayers.
The streets of the Old City which were bustling with tourists and shoppers until afternoon are deserted by the evening. The already maze-like layout of the Old City becomes harder to navigate as all the narrow, dimly lit streets look alike with all the shop shutters drawn shut.
To navigate through the Old City and reach the Western Wall without getting lost, I pick a tall, brimmed, black hat and follow it all the way. At the Wall, worshipers come together and collectively sing verses from the Torah. I slink away quietly to a corner of the Western Wall plaza and watch the crowd sway harmoniously to the prayer recital.
In Tel Aviv, it is time to rejoice and come out and play because come Sunday, it will be time to fall into routine.