Parks and Playgrounds

Over the past couple of days, as we've walked around our new neighborhood, we've been on the lookout for parks and playgrounds. One thing that's nice about living in a city without a car is that there tend to be playgrounds pretty much within walking distance of everything. Back home, we have to drive to every playground except one near our house, so it's a treat to walk around a corner in Jerusalem and see another patch of green, or better yet, a brightly-colored slide and some swings.

About five minutes from our house is a sprawling green space called Gan Sacher, or Sacher Park. The whole area is a complex of parks and gardens leading up to a series of government and cultural buildings. Gan Sacher itself is a broad low-lying lawn in a valley between two of Jerusalem's many steep hills. The well-trodden grass provides local residents with plenty of space for playing pickup games of soccer and frisbee, and the picnic tables and benches lining the grass are often filled with families barbecuing and relaxing in the evenings and on Shabbat. On our recent visit to the park, we found an outdoor exercise area that had equipment similar to that you might find in a gym. While we were showing Alexander the machines, a "bike gang" of young Hasidic boys came by and started working out. Here's a video of the boys, and of Alexander taking it all in.

You can circumnavigate Sacher Park on typical cement walkways, but what's interesting to me is that you can also veer off the paved paths onto dirt trails that crisscross the wooded hillside on the far side of the park. When I was here five years ago, and needed to escape the confines of our tiny apartment, I would jog down our street into the park, then improvise a route through the trails on the hillside. There, I often found myself completely alone, surrounded by cypress and olive trees, shaded a bit from the summer heat. I spent a lot of time running through Sacher Park, the adjacent woods, and up on top of the hill, where in a row, the stately buildings of the Supreme Court, the Knesset (which houses the Israeli Parliament), and the Israel Museum stand somewhat aloof from the rest of the city. I always found it fascinating that I could run through these very different "ecosystems"-- from a city park in which people from all demographics hang out, to a fairly quiet and serene wooded area, to a series of imposing buildings surrounded by cultivated rose gardens and armed guards -- in about 15 minutes. During my first trip to Jerusalem, Sacher Park was probably the place I felt most connected to in the city; in that green space, there is always something interesting to see. Years ago, I wrote a short piece about my experiences running through the park, and I thought I'd post it here:

Sacher Park

 

In Sacher Park, an Orthodox man lines up children by the playground. He waves the Israeli flag, eliciting cheers. Nearby, two Palestinian boys fly a kite shaped as a fighter plane. It darts and dives in the wind.

Everywhere, trash: plastic cups and cigarette butts on the sad, patchy grass. The park is dirty, and since I tend to be snobby, wanting my open spaces clean and green, I often find myself wondering why this is the place that calms me down, this is the place I keep going back to.

Despite the trash, the grass and trees provide a reprieve from the rest of Jerusalem, its crowds and grime and endless limestone. I come in the evening to run: through the bustle of the main park, up into the dry, forested hills, past the Supreme Court behind its metal gates, its guards and their guns. I run through the rose garden, past the monastery, and back to the place I started: the green lawns where everyone hangs out.

I like the contrasts I find on this run. In the hills, I can get the dose of nature I seem to need so badly, living as I do in a basement studio below a dingy, bustling street. Someone has reforested this section of the park with an impressive army of trees: olive and cypress, pine and oriental plane. One day, instead of running, I take a slow walk through the forest, field guide in hand, pausing every few feet to look at leaves, attempting to connect to the land by learning the names of its trees. Soon I realize many of them are not native. Beautiful as they are, most are transplants, carried here as seeds by a well-meaning hand. In a thousand years, will anyone know or care which species is native and which is imported? Will it make a difference who had prior claim?

Running down from the woods toward the lawns is like coming back to town after a stint in the wilderness. I want to see people again. Here, Orthodox men toss Frisbees, sweating through their white shirts, fringes flying. Palestinian families mill around picnic tables, grilling; the air smells of skewered meat and vegetables. I run past them all and am grateful for our collective leisure. Last week, a man stole a bulldozer from a construction site and drove it down the street a few blocks from here, crushing several cars and civilians before he was shot dead. Here, in Sacher Park, events like that don’t dominate my thinking. Seeing people out enjoying themselves, I feel safe, hopeful. If I’m lucky, I’ll see a hawk perched in a cypress. If I’m lucky, my favorite soccer team will be working out, and I’ll stop to watch them make their way through push-ups, sit-ups, sprints.  But the thing is, in Sacher Park I’m always lucky. It’s trashy and unkempt, crowded and smoky, but there’s just no denying the beauty of a place where people can be together with their flags, their kites, their sports, their food, and their differences.

 

So the other day, when we took our first walk through Sacher Park, I felt as happy as I've felt since we've been here in Jerusalem. I felt like I was on familiar ground. Last time we were here, in June and July, the park was mostly brown and dry. This time, we arrived in time to see Jerusalem in its spring greenery, so as we strolled through the park, we saw lots of bright flowers in bloom. I'm not sure of the names of all the flowers we saw (I need to get out those old field guides I had last time!), but I know this first photo is of a rosemary bush in bloom; they are all over the place right now.

 

 

 

Just outside the park, but still in the expanse of green space and walking trails, stands this 5th-century Greek Orthodox monastery:

 

We pass the monastery on our way back home from Sacher Park. Just across the street from it is a playground that is probably 100 yards from our front door. I'm pretty excited about this spot, because we can easily take Alexander here whenever he needs to stretch his legs. Just the other day, he took his first ride down a slide on his own, without the reassuring hand of mom or dad.

 

And even closer to home, we've discovered quite a treasure. There is a well-kept garden surrounding our house and in it stands a beautiful orange tree! The oranges are actually pretty ripe right now. You can see the tree from our kitchen window, and whenever we go out the back door, Alexander wants to pick another orange.

 

So for someone like me, who thrives when there are trees, and flowers, and green spaces, and room to run around in, I'm glad to say that Jerusalem has plenty of those things, especially in springtime. I'm sure in the coming weeks we'll be spending lots of time in these and other local parks.