1985-1986 Rothberg Yearbook

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Experience Mahane Yehuda
Doing your weekly shopping at Supersol simply
cannot compare to the experience you get while
shopping at Machaneh Yehuda. This outdoor, Jewish
market at one end of Jaffa Rd. is filled with the most
interesting o f characters, and sells anything from tom atoes
and natural peanut butter to socks and wonder pots! The
best day to go, if you like action, is on a Friday morning.
Starting at 6:00 a.m., this little corner of the city is
swarming with people, frantically rushing to purchase all
their last-minute items for Shabbat.
Starting from Mt. Scopus, you must first wait 25
minutes for the No. 23 bus, which will take you directly
across from the market. Unlike the No. 9, when you
board this bus, you may notice that you are practically
the only one not wearing a Kaffiah! After 20 minutes of
silent riding, you reach your destination. Getting off the
bus and eyeing the crowds, you clutch your plastic
basket, steel yourself for the worst and plunge into the
fray. The first thing you notice are the colors. Fruits and
vegetables of every possible hue are on display, each
stand more beautiful than the next. Of course, it is hard
to fully appreciate this when you are too busy dodging
rotten fruit, dead chickens and speeding strollers!
The usual tactic is to go through once and price the
merchandise, then go back and fill up your basket with
the best bargains. However, it is a proven fact that no
matter how small your list is to begin with, you have, by
the end o f the hour, bought 15 kilos of produce that you
never intended on buying, none of which you will be able
to finish before it goes bad! You see, it is almost
impossible to purchase anything less than a kilo. Why the
vendors refuse to sell only tw o bananas is beyond me, but
I always feel the futility o f arguing with a man who is
really a Jewish mother at heart. “Here, have one more,
make it a kilo!” “D on’t touch!” “What’s da matta, you
don’t like? So don’t buy!”
As your basket nears its breaking point, so do your
nerves. Top hats and side curls rush by in a blurr of black,
pushing carts and strollers over anyone unlucky enough
to get in their way. Colored kerchiefs examine flopping
fish, and scream curses at the vendors in three different
languages. Shouts o f “Shekel v’chetsy — T oot!” mingle
with the smell of fish and fresh pita, and the mournful
chants o f the beggars outside. When your basket is
overflowing and you finally manage to escape into the
welcoming sunlight once again, you inevitably find that
you have just missed the No. 23 bus, and have to wait
another half hour before catching the next one. In your
hunger, you devour a w eek’s worth of pita that should’ve
lasted you a month! After 25 minutes o f waiting and
munching, you are so thirsty that you run to the nearest
stand to buy something to drink, consequently nearly
missing the second No. 23! Exhausted, you collapse on
the bus seat and hold on to your bulging basket for dear
life, as you endure the rollercoaster ride home.
Arriving at the dorms, the formidable task of
schlepping 15 kilos of food up inumerable flights o f stairs
seems mind-boggling, but you somehow manage to do it.
Reaching your door, you fumble for your key, and
realize that 1) your strawberries are on the very bottom
of your basket; 2) you seem to be missing your pita, and
a few bananas have been lost along the way, and 3) there
is no room in your refrigerator for even half of the food
you bought! To this, there is only one solution: have a
Shabbat dinner party! Unfortunately, after friends leave
and your kitchen returns to its normal, empty state, you
must once again return to the chaotic depths of that
infamous market at the end o f Jaffa — Machaneh
Yehuda!
Witten May 6,1986
by Lisa Rauchwerger