What I Learned From a Jerusalem Taxi Driver

In the hustle and bustle of Manhattan, a cab driver is a person who takes his passengers from one spot to another. Conversation might—but usually does not—reach beyond pleasantries: hello, goodbye, thank you. But in Jerusalem, a city whose je ne sais quoi cultivates the most unexpected of friendships, the journey is sometimes more important than the destination.

One day in Jerusalem, just over four years ago, I met Tzion, a 60-something Iraqi Jewish cab driver. There was no particular reason to suspect we might ever see each other again, and certainly no reason to guess we would become friends. We differ with regard to age, gender, and political outlook, and I was staying in Jerusalem for only 10 months. But in the years since we first met, he and I have developed a bond that far transcends that which is typically experienced between customer and driver. The kind of bond that only Jerusalem can foster.

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