The only ones satisfied by the curfew imposed because of Bush's visit seem to be high school students.
By SHELLY PAZ, REBECCA ANNA STOIL
As US President George W. Bush was settling in at the King David Hotel on Wednesday afternoon, the center of Jerusalem was under a major curfew.
"I understand they needed to close all the streets President Bush's convoy will drive through, but why close it to buses since 8 a.m.?" asked Nira, a nurse at the High School for the Arts, as she waited for the bus a street away from the hotel.
However, the high school students seemed satisfied.
"We finished studying early today," one student, Livluv, said with a smile before getting on the bus with his friends. "President Bush rocks!"
The center of Jerusalem was all but deserted until late Wednesday afternoon. Many who dared to leave their houses and workplaces had to walk miles in order to reach their destinations.
"Most of the workers just didn't show up to work today," said the security guard at the National Labor Court on Rehov Keren Hayesod, which was completely closed to traffic.
Although Jerusalem police commanders had their hands full keeping the city in line with the strict security regulations, the thousands of policemen and -women posted on corners, on sidewalks and at checkpoints seemed - for the most part - bored.
Police officers leaned against walls, sat on benches and manned crowd-control fencing at 10-20 meter intervals - but the crowds never came.
"We have decided to see how things go and to make plans according to the stream of clients," said Dani Ayash, manager of the restaurant Little Italy, also on Keren Hayesod. "To tell the truth, I had been counting on Bush's entourage and the journalists to dine here."
On the other hand, 10 meters from the Prime Minister's Residence, dozens of Israeli and foreign journalists and American security personnel were crowded at the Restobar restaurant, which regularly hosts press representatives and politicians.
"I've been operating this place for three years now, and it has never been as crazy as today," said Shahar Levy, the restaurant's owner and manager.
"I don't think anyone knows what the purpose of [Bush's] visit is, but it is fairly rare that the president of the Israeli colony comes for a visit, so we accept it with love and understanding," Levy added wryly.
But not all Jerusalemites were happy about the visit.
Pedestrians found their plans frequently frustrated by the police blockages, during which roads leading to the Prime Minister's Residence, Beit Hanassi and - of course - the King David Hotel were all closed to pedestrian traffic.
At the barriers, police officers were frequently unable to recommend alternative routes for pedestrians - nor were they updated as to which other byways were similarly blocked off, and so pedestrians in the Rehavia, Talbiya and Katamon neighborhoods found that exiting the area on foot took up to thirty minutes, counting detours.
Shortly before 3 p.m., several residents gathered on one of the streets leading to Beit Hanassi to watch the US president's convoy arrive at President Shimon Peres's residence.
"I'm Bush's captive," one local informed his friend by cellphone. "I can't get to my house until they open the street again."
"Thank you, President Bush, for creating Hamastine," called a demonstrator outside the Great Synagogue. Later on, some dozen teenagers joined the demonstration, carrying plastic guns and sporting keffiyehs.
"It is unbearable that they talk about releasing prisoners who aided in carrying out terror attacks against the Jewish people here," said Yitzhak Maoz, whose daughter Tehila was killed in the August 2001 Sbarro pizza shop bombing and who came to take part in the demonstration.
However, some passers-by expressed indignation over the demonstrators.
"I don't get it," Jacob Perentz, a yeshiva student, told The Jerusalem Post as he walked by the demonstration. "President Bush seems like a nice guy. He said hello to the children who awaited him at the airport, and in general he makes a positive impression. What do they want from him?"
Although Jerusalem police commanders had their hands full keeping the city in line with the strict regulations, the thousands of policemen and -women posted on corners, on sidewalks and at checkpoints that sprang up around the city seemed - for the most part - bored.
Throughout central areas of the city, police officers leaned against walls, sat on benches and manned crowd-control fencing at 10-20 meter intervals - but the crowds never came.
Pedestrians, meanwhile, found their plans frequently frustrated by the police blockages, during which roads leading to the Prime Minister's Residence, Beit Hanassi and - of course - the King David Hotel were all closed to pedestrian traffic.
At the barriers, police officers were frequently unable to recommend alternative routes for pedestrians - nor were they updated as to which other byways were similarly blocked off, and so pedestrians in the Rehavia, Talbiya and Katamon neighborhoods found that exiting the area on foot took up to thirty minutes, counting detours.
When pressed for updates, one police superintendent on Rehov Gaza shrugged and told confused pedestrians to "call the police hotline" - which policeman Yoram Cohen promptly answered, only to say that he was uninformed as to which streets were closed and that the caller should ask a police officer on the scene.