I love living in Jerusalem.
For six months, I’ve spent my days wandering through the shuk, haggling with vendors, and enjoying fresh coffee on my morning walks. I’ve made shopping on Ben-Yehuda a weekly ritual, watching street performers from outdoor cafés, and relishing finally living in a city with proper delivery services.
But most of all, when I moved out of my small town – a place where the closest thing to public transportation was hitching a ride with your neighbor – I was so excited to live somewhere with real public transportation. An actual train station with electronic boards displaying arrival times, buses every few minutes running on schedule, and, of course, the crown jewel that makes Jerusalem feel like a real metropolitan city: the light rail.
With such easy access to all my favorite spots and a train never more than a few minutes away, the light rail was such a selling point when I moved here that I didn’t even blink at the absolutely insane property tax I was charged for my apartment. Because surely, this was the amenity to end all amenities.
And it was. Until it wasn’t.
Last week, I, like many others, was shocked to learn that some of the most heavily used stops along the light rail would be shut down for 14 weeks to connect a new line. Fourteen weeks. That’s nearly four months of summer heat, tourist crowds, and construction chaos.
That first day was absolutely terrible. Picture this: Thousands of commuters who had built their entire daily routines around the light rail suddenly finding themselves stranded. The sidewalk was packed with confused people, all shoving to get through narrow passages that were never designed to handle pedestrian traffic at this volume.
And you couldn’t even cross the street because they’ve walled off the tracks in between intersections with metal fencing, making what used to be a quick hop across Jaffa Road a maze of detours.
But don’t worry, they said! In an effort to calm the masses and prevent a full-scale urban revolt, the city promised they had added more buses to compensate for the lost rail service, so now the roads can be packed with traffic, too!
When a bus ride from Ben-Yehuda to the Haturim station – a journey that used to take a pleasant 12 minutes on the light rail – now takes 40 minutes (yes, really, I timed it), sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic while the air conditioning struggles against the summer heat, I’d rather just stay home.
So now, many Jerusalemites have been left without their main form of transportation and with near-constant drilling as the new soundtrack to their daily lives – and our nights, as the jackhammers never actually seem to stop.
“I’ve been trying to sleep for days, and I can’t. They drill all day long. It’s just the worst,” one person told me.
“It’s just goddamn loud, and it’s constant, and it’s everywhere. My whole life was based on the light rail. That was my main public transport, and now it’s gone, and instead it’s replaced with constant drilling for 24 hours a day,” another resident said.
This isn’t just about inconvenience. It’s about how an entire city’s population – that of the capital, no less – has had to fundamentally restructure their lives overnight. Elderly residents who relied on the accessible light rail stations now struggle with crowded bus stops and high steps.
Parents who used to easily navigate the city with strollers now find themselves trapped in their neighborhoods, cut off by construction barriers and overwhelmed by the logistics of urban mobility without their primary transportation lifeline.
Economics of urban upheaval
Many people claim that the municipality is not taking its residents into consideration by choosing to shut down the light rail during the hottest time of year; and with peak tourist season looming just around the corner, Jerusalem is about to be overrun by sweaty, upset individuals – both locals and visitors who had planned their Jerusalem experience around efficient public transportation.
The timing feels particularly cruel. Summer in Jerusalem means temperatures regularly climbing above 30°C (86°F), making any extended time outdoors genuinely uncomfortable. Add to that the dust and noise from construction, the exhaust fumes from increased bus traffic, and the stress of navigating a city in chaos, and you have a recipe for widespread misery.
While people understand this infrastructure expansion is something that needs to happen for the city’s long-term development, Jerusalemites are frustrated and disappointed with how everything is being handled – especially the nighttime construction noise that violates basic quality of life standards, and the traffic congestion that has turned simple errands into half-day ordeals.
In addition, there’s the economic aspect. Residents have paid a significant amount to live in areas with direct access to the light rail, making housing decisions and financial commitments based on the promise of convenient public transportation; now they’re still paying those same inflated rents and property taxes but no longer have the option to use the service they’re paying for. This is particularly upsetting considering the fact that Transportation Minister Miri Regev raised public transport prices just before the shutdown, meaning you can now pay NIS 8 to sit in traffic and contemplate your life’s mistakes.
“I think they’d better give us some sort of discount on our property tax.” This sentiment echoes through the streets of Jerusalem; but with no word from the city administration about compensation or relief measures, residents are stuck grumbling as they walk along the walled-off remains of what used to be our peaceful city.
The impact on daily life cannot be overstated. “As soon as Shavuot ended, they started ripping up the concrete again outside my apartment. So I literally went to sleep today hearing them smashing up the road. I woke up today – they’ve been smashing up the road. I’ve come to work – I hear them smashing up the road. It’s just unbearable. And then the fact that it’s just everywhere in the city, it just adds to it.”
That resident’s experience captures the pervasive nature of the construction. It’s not confined to a single area or limited to business hours. The work sites stretch across multiple neighborhoods, creating a city-wide construction zone where escape from the noise and disruption seems impossible.
With week one of 14 down, residents are growing more irritated as time goes on with barely any respite from the noise, and the realization that this is just the beginning, starting to sink in. We’re not talking about a quick fix or a minor inconvenience – this is a fundamental disruption to urban life that will define the summer of 2025 for everyone who calls Jerusalem home.
The price of progress
You know what they say: Hard now, easy later. (It’s funnier in Hebrew, trust me.)
While there isn’t much to be done about the noise and disruption, assuming the construction company intends to stick to its strict 14-week timeline and doesn’t encounter the delays that seem to plague every major infrastructure project in Israel, by early September Jerusalem will be the first city in Israel to have a proper network of interconnected light rails.
This could, theoretically, revolutionize urban mobility in Jerusalem.
This does, unfortunately, involve creating intersections between the existing and new rail lines, which legitimately explains why the entire existing line needed to be shut down rather than operating on a reduced schedule.
With this ambitious plan fully realized, Jerusalemites will enjoy much higher mobility and flexibility throughout the city, able to travel longer distances and reach more destinations without relying on the bus system, which, let’s be honest, presents its own set of challenges that deserve their own dedicated article.
Finding joy in chaos
At least somebody is enjoying the current situation. My kitten, Bear, gets endless entertainment from watching the hours of construction activity outside our window, even if he has to meow extra loudly to be heard over the mechanical symphony. I think he actually likes the challenge of competing with jackhammers for attention.
This article was originally published at www.jpost.com
