http://www.youtube.com/embed/RzhQuQGyulA
I can recognize the Mamila mall near which we stayed during Hanukkah. The impossible dream to return to the city of pink golden stone, the courtyard with the golden trees arching over the square full of pigeons and cats, with the shawarma stand in the corner and a temple with round top, children dancing around the menorah, young bearded men in white playing drums. I left my biological homeland twenty years ago and never, ever felt any nostalgia, completely cut off. But this city where we spent only eight days of Hanukkah feels like a long lost hometown, the whole city that smells like Shabbos.
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