Gill

A month after my Aliyah I brave the old city to visit some close friends. Until now I'd been a avoiding the place for reasons unknown. Having strolled through the Armenian quarter, the January air beating against my face turning my cheeks red and making my eyes water, I figured it was only appropriate that I visit the kotel as well. In preparation of my meeting with the Holy rocks which create the boundaries of a now extinct temple I try to think holy thoughts:
''Chareidim are close minded'' no, that's not holy.
“ These rocks are the vertical version of the ones I’m walking on” still not so holy
''Rocks don't represent Godliness'' getting a little closer
''Daily meditation (or prayer) can help you get centred'' close enough! Off I go!

I wash my hands for ritual purity and like a fly to a web of black leather straps I navigate right into the mitzvah trap.

A black coat grabs my arm, it’s stronger than you would assume a man who studies chassidus all day would be.
''Is your mother Jewish!?''
Apprehensive response: ''...ye''
''Tfill!''
Politely refusal: ‘‘its ok thank you, I have them at home if I want to put them on I will''
''You are home! Tfill!''
He drags me to the mitzvah wagon dripping with men swaying to the rhythm of their prayers and starts binding the felactories to my arm. Wish I hadn’t left my whistle at home coz this was definitely not consensual.

''Why should I put these on?''
''God said so!'' he replies with the enthusiasm of a fat kid in a cake shop.

(so many questions, why does an omnipotent being care that one of his creation's skin is being strapped to another? How does a being without a voice box speak? How do the rabbis go from reading 'totafot' to 'teffilin'?) He doesn't have time, he needs to fill his mitzvah quota.

This spiritually riveting experience escalated when a pale senior with a long white beard and peyot to match locks eyes with me with and with no respect for my personal space starts to preach into my face.

I know this guy, its Guru Gill, I've read his book, went from being a Buddhist hermit on a mountain top to a member of the Chassidic world. It’s a shame that all his years spent in silence and he still hasn’t learn to listen...

He taught me these lessons Three:
(I'll save u the full transcript)
1) Men wear pants, physically and especially figuratively. A relationship works because man is dominant.
2) Being vegetarian is a good thing, but if God says skin a cow and strap em on, you strap em on!
3) There is nothing more to life than marrying a Jewish woman and popping out a few more Jews, the rest is peripheral ramblings.

I serreptitiously sneak away both of us enriches for the experience.
I head toward the bus feeling dirty from being mitzvah-raped...
Going back there on Saturday, such a sadist.