Shuk Hatikva – The Wild West in East Tel Aviv

When my friend Yael told me she wanted to take a day off for her birthday, I suggested a visit to Shuk Hatikva because neither of us had been there and we thought it would be a colorful way to spend the day. Tel Aviv recently renovated Shuk Hatikva, but even for a casual visitor there is an undercurrent of tension which a new façade cannot erase. Listless youth, suspicious glances, irate  merchants , this is real life, trying to squeeze a living from selling cheap knickknacks on a dusty carpet, buyers counting their coins wary of relinquishing the little they have.

This is not a tourist attraction and it doesn’t try to be, which makes Shuk Hatikva one of the more atmospheric and mercurial shuks in the country.

I have been photographing shuks for over a year now and have learned the hard way that not everyone is sympathetic to my hobby. I have been yelled at “Hey! What am I? A monkey at the zoo?” interrogated “Are you working for the IRS?!”  told to pay “20 NIS or leave” or simply looked upon with unblinking “deadeyes” , a very clear message. I learned to make eye contact to make sure I am not encroaching on someone’s privacy, to ask permission and to photograph when I think nobody is taking notice. This has gotten me in a bit of trouble in Shuk Hatikva and was subject to a diatribe even after apologizing profusely. I was called rude, uncultured, and arrogant for photographing a couple bagels while my friend, Yael was attempting to buy some za’atar rolls.

If you happen to see these, don't photograph

Just as suddenly the torrent shifted and the merchant instead pounced on a thin Ethiopian man, grabbing his throat in rage until the shuk, like a tribal mother, intervened and both men stomped off.

Someone had forgotten to drink their herbal tea.

Yael left her rolls. Shaking, we went to buy freshly squeezed orange juice from a vendor, behind us a man asked gruffly for a cup and walked away without paying yelling behind his shoulder unapologetically “Hey dude, don’t have the  money ”

But then you have the other face of Hatikva, the kind eyes and smiles, those who asked me to photograph them, others who escorted me around their store, happy to share a small part of their neighborhood. Many of the stalls sell common items, from vegetables, fruits and household wares but there are alleyways dotted with stores selling huge vats of amba (mango pickles), preserved lemons and olives which I have not seen in such quantities in other shuks.

I will definitely visit Hatikva again, avoiding one particular baker but I am not sure my friend will be coming with me, especially not on her birthday.