Listening Versus Hearing in Jerusalem

So...on the flight here, one of the benefits to flying Biz Class in those Star Trek type pod beds is the incessant air conditioning blast. No matter what I did, even covering most of my face with a baseball hat and breathing through the blanket, my sinuses got nailed. I had a sinus headache for most of the flight and for the day and night after. And, from the stove to freezer conditions of Tel Aviv, Thursday all day I felt the blood pulsating in my ears. And then yesterday morning, Friday, I awoke to my right ear being completely blocked up. I cannot hear out of it at all. Now today, Saturday, my left ear is only slightly less so. No real pain, just feel like an entire pound of cotton are packed tightly in each side. I always travel with a precautionary ZPAK, so immediately started that course, and yesterday afternoon went to the pharmacy for Sudafed and Nose drops. So far, nothing has worked. My hotel arranged for a doctor's appointment tonight, after Shabbat. I am nervous because years ago in East Africa I flew with an ear infection and lost about half of my hearing in my right ear.

But I think there is something else at work here. I am trying to listen to myself, to my soul on this journey, and Jerusalem IS overwhelming in that respect. In Tel Aviv it is easy to be fully me, I feel at home pretty much more than anywhere else. Tel Aviv society is open, sexy, fun, vibrant, with attitude to burn, it is a place where you can be fully YOU, no matter who or what you are. It's live and let live, live for today, because, with the rest of the region gunning for you, there might not be a tomorrow. People hook up for pure joy and need for physical contact. There is literally no word for dating in the Hebrew language. You go out, you have fun, you spend time if you want to. There's no trial period, no getting to know the person cautiously. Going out to the Lesbian hot spot restaurant and newly renovated men's gay bar with my new friend Shally, (the gay brother of Israeli friends in LA), it seems that everyone is open and out in Tel Aviv.

In Jerusalem, my inner homophobia comes out. To be sure, the Gay Pride Parade was a couple of days ago, and it was peaceful this time and a couple of thousand people attended. But....and yet...I can't. There is something in me about wanting to be able to sit at the same table -- literally, and I can't get out of my head the anti-gay poison my years hanging out with those Chabadniks placed within me that make me think that if I am out that seat at the table is off limits. Last night I sat with Yitzhak, the Mischeach, the one who makes sure the food is prepared according to kosher specifications. He's a clinical psychologist in his fifties with four grown sons. He's an Orthodox Jew who keeps the laws. Immediately he tells me that his wife died years and years ago, and now that his four sons are all self-sufficient he is lonely and would like to remarry. He then said, "I have trouble finding women." I wanted to reply, "Same here." but I couldn't. One of his sons sat with us along with his Mother, a really great woman in her mid-80's. Yitzak is a really nice guy, and I feel for him. He would be catch for some nice women who wants to make an Orthodox Kosher home. He made comments that he was charmed by me, but the more he said and the more I sat there making conversation with his kids and his Mom the more my ears plugged up and created an almost out of body feeling, as if I were split off, distant to myself. I am. Being here in Jerusalem I am me as far as being a Jew, but I am not fully me.

Yesterday I went to the Kotel, to the Wailing Wall to pray. As is tradition, I placed a couple of notes in the cracks in the Wall. One is for the health of my loved ones. The other one is to find my Beshert, my soul mate. Today I went again, and just touched the Wall and prayed to be released from this ridiculous homophobia, from this torment.