The Labors of Bucephalus No matter how tedious life at times could become, one look out the window was enough to remind me that not far away, the world-and adventure-were impatiently waiting.-R. Morse

My time spent at the Wailing, or Western Wall (The last remnant of the 2nd Temple built under King Herod) was in some ways a profound experience.  Little cardboard yarmulkes are distributed, and though the slightest breeze blows them off, you are required to wear them.  Within minutes of my arrival I was approached by a somewhat unconventionally dressed Jewish man (in stocking cap and trenchcoat)who immediately began educating me on the Jewish faith.  Reluctantly I followed him into an area seeming much too solemn for conversation, where Jewish men prayed and read, and where intricately designed scrolls containing the Torah were housed.  I did notice, from the glances of others, that this was an unpopular man, and after receiving his blessing upon me I found out why.  The ever-disappointing plea for money manifested itself for, what else?, an operation for his ailing mother. *sigh* Perhaps three seconds after beginning his pitch, an older gentleman, probably a rabbi, let him have it.  Unsurprisingly, it is seriously frowned upon to panhandle in such a sacred area, and the rabbi made it clear:"Do not give him money."  He didn't have to tell me twice, or even once for that matter.  I finally rid myself of my new "friend" and touched the Wailing Wall.  It is inevitable for myself to feel a swelling of emotion in the immediate face of such history, tradition and sanctity.  The mind reels, contemplating the religious significance of this small remnant of the 2nd Temple.