A young man stands by the table and sings this old tune; he sways swiftly back and forth, his body moves quickly in step with the words. It is as if he sits bobbing on a camel’s back trekking over desert sands. Most likely he is of the Yemeni Jews, who for centuries have lived of carrying people across the desert on camels. Their faith, yes, their whole life, is marked by the desert’s uniformity and constancy. And so they still sit and rock and sway in their synagogues and have kept their ancient phrases and traditions. This youth’s glance is a mystery deep, infinitely distant. His uncommon gesticulations and trancelike prayers conjure up vision of the Israelites’ worship of ages long passed.