One could say that appearances don't really matter here in Jerusalem. This is true in a sense. Kids are mis-matched from head to toe. You can wear what you want and no one cares. You aren't judged by what you are wearing or not wearing.
However, in an ironic twist, you are designated by what you wear. When we first arrived in Jerusalem, it became quickly apparent that attire designated religious association.
There are the Orthodox men in their black and white suites with tallit hanging down. They wear a black hat for head covering. Their wives wear long sleeve right shirts with looser fitting short sleeve on top and long black skirts, tights and shoes. Older Orthodox wives wear wigs while the younger generation wear scarves or head wraps.
Then there are Jews ranging from religious to secular who might dress as you or I do with the exception of a kippa or not. Arabs walk around as well. The women are easier to spot with the full head covering and long jackets. I hurt for them imagining how uncomfortable they must be in this heat. The men usually wear slacks and short-sleeved shirts - they aren't as distinguishable.
I can reflect now on how I felt when we first arrived. Women really wouldn't make eye contact with me. I went out and bought a long skirt without even realizing I was trying to fit in to their group. (As if that would happen with a simple skirt!) It was when I was in my room and trying to wrap my head in a scarf that I realized how ridiculously desperate I was for some signs of friendship.
Bottom line is it made me consider how I dress at home and how I judge others based on the same criteria. Are they like me or not? Are they on my team, or not?
I suppose we take comfort in doing things like others do. It reassures us that we are ok and calms our insecurities. It sure has been easier to see through their fronts than to seriously consider mine. Strip away our homes, our cars or how we dress, who are we really?
