Jawdat – KensView

I met Jawdat just as I entered
by way of the Damascus Gate.
“Welcome to Jerusalem, the Holy City.
Are you looking for a guide?” he asked.
A quick glance discomfited me,
For he looked no older than I myself.
But he expertly continued,
“This Gate is The Center of the World.
It is an excellent type of Islamic building,
and do you know what its sign means?
There is no God but God
and Muhammed is His Prophet.”
What convenient luck for me, I thought,
as he offered to guide me for the next few days.
“There is the immovable ladder of
the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
Someone put it against that wall, and
no one dares disturb the status quo.”
“Make sure you cover your elbows
when tucking prayers in the Wailing Wall.”
“Remember remove shoes in al-Aqsa,
so you can see the wonderful decorations.”
He offered little personal insights
To spice up our series of walks.
“Let me treat you to some Turkish coffee
along with a delicious slice of kanafa.”
“The sabbath, the busiest day of the week, is
when Arabs and Israeli teens eye the miniskirts.”
And “Someday I will go to your country
to study and get an American wife.” Also,
“My family is originally from Jaffa
but was thrown out the Day of the Nakba.”
Once when we dined late after curfew,
he vanished after helping me enter my hostel.
For four days there was no sign of him,
though I enquired from shop to shop.
At the market there was a wary silence
until my last day his familiar figure re-emerged.
Jawdat approached and pulled up his shirt
to show me the IDF’s purple marks.