Talis & Cassock (1983)

Distanced around the twists of the Old City streets a rythmic, precise, pounding of staffs on the hard stones precedes a procession of two heralds ponderously leading a suited Arab and a priest of the Syrian Orthodox church, his black robe trailing itself beneath his black headware. 

As they leave me down the narrow, walled, street, only as wide as the procession, a Jewish doctor darts from a doorway, hurriedly skirting in and around them, and as he cuts between them, the knotted strings that hang below his sweater, which are to remind him of the Laws, fly out brushing against the priest’s dark cassock.