I'm sitting at a plaza overlooking the Western Wall in Jerusalem. It's shabbot; people are rushing down for prayer, singing and dancing. There's a vendor selling yarmulkes and a twenty-something guy talking (with a North American accent) on his iPhone. Earlier he lifted his right butt cheek and farted. He looked back to see if anyone was around and I pretended not to hear.
Maybe that distraction was the reason I did not notice a lone backpack.
"lesh ehhe biekhlb shhhh?" A tour guide was asking me if the backpack was mine in Hebrew.
"I thought it was his." I point at the iPhone fart guy. The fart guy is unconcerned, he shakes his head no and continues talking. I'm already up the stairs when I overhear the tour guide, "OK let's get away from this bag."
I have no idea where I'm going; my goal is to get as far away from the Jewish Quarter as possible. An unattended backpack in Jerusalem? I'm not taking any chances. I'm sprinting up an alley when I step into a crowd of Israeli soldiers with their M-16's. Pushing through them doesn't help my nerves but as soon as I see some crosses (a sure sign of the Christian Quarter) I feel slightly relieved.
Obviously, there was no explosion from the backpack. Shabbot came and went.
People ask if it's safe in Israel. It is. I feel safe.
BUT the machine guns, West Bank walls, high security and remnants of bombs can be overwhelming.
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