The Drag King Show
There's a big warehouse-style club in south Jerusalem called Yellow Submarine, sort of like Slim's or DNA Lounge, and for World Pride they hosted a big drag king show. Israeli lesbians are very proud that the Drag King scene in Israel is based in Jerusalem instead of Tel Aviv. They had a lot of performers (some great, some okay), and it was a pretty fun party.
At a certain point, Mark and I decided it was time to leave. The problem was that were no taxis in this neighborhood, and we were several kilometers from central Jerusalem. I remembered then that I'd seen ultra-Orthodox men hitchhiking all over the country, so when we see someone pulling out from the club parking lot, we ask for a ride, and it's happily given!
We also picked up this young guy who was photographing the Drag King show for Ha'aretz, the English language daily paper. 19 years old from Detroit, he's interning at the paper for the summer, until he goes back to school in the States. I'm not sure what he knows about gay stuff (because he was so obviously and adorably straight), but he was very happy with his queer culture assignement. It was his first one that wasn't in the Gaza Strip taking pictures of a war zone.
We all talk animatedly on the drive downtown. Eventually it comes out that our driver, a local, and the photographer, a cutie, have been hanging out at this hipster bar called D-1. D-1 is near Shusham, the gay bar, and we passed it several times and I was curious to check it out, so we four stopped there for a drink. It was a very funky laidback scene, very diverse for Israel (age-wise, Arab-Israeli-wise), and the Electro and New Wave-retro music was as good as my favorite clubs in San Francisco.
It was explained to me that some of the more, uh, wild-around-the-eyes types in the bar were possibly exhibiting behavior related to "Syndrome Yerushalayim." What's that? I asked. There are certain people who, when they come to Holy City for the first time, become convinced that they're the Messiah. There's lots of them, I'm told, and it's all well and good until they encounter each other. Then the fur starts to fly!
At a certain point, Mark and I decided it was time to leave. The problem was that were no taxis in this neighborhood, and we were several kilometers from central Jerusalem. I remembered then that I'd seen ultra-Orthodox men hitchhiking all over the country, so when we see someone pulling out from the club parking lot, we ask for a ride, and it's happily given!
We also picked up this young guy who was photographing the Drag King show for Ha'aretz, the English language daily paper. 19 years old from Detroit, he's interning at the paper for the summer, until he goes back to school in the States. I'm not sure what he knows about gay stuff (because he was so obviously and adorably straight), but he was very happy with his queer culture assignement. It was his first one that wasn't in the Gaza Strip taking pictures of a war zone.
We all talk animatedly on the drive downtown. Eventually it comes out that our driver, a local, and the photographer, a cutie, have been hanging out at this hipster bar called D-1. D-1 is near Shusham, the gay bar, and we passed it several times and I was curious to check it out, so we four stopped there for a drink. It was a very funky laidback scene, very diverse for Israel (age-wise, Arab-Israeli-wise), and the Electro and New Wave-retro music was as good as my favorite clubs in San Francisco.
It was explained to me that some of the more, uh, wild-around-the-eyes types in the bar were possibly exhibiting behavior related to "Syndrome Yerushalayim." What's that? I asked. There are certain people who, when they come to Holy City for the first time, become convinced that they're the Messiah. There's lots of them, I'm told, and it's all well and good until they encounter each other. Then the fur starts to fly!
posted by Ken | 11:56 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home