“I don’t want to marry a carpenter,” my wife had decided when she was looking for a husband. She did get some of the things she wanted, but not exactly avoiding that one. Being an amateur, casual “woodie,” I always like to find usable timber and things made out of the strong and beautiful tree material and fix them up to use, sell, or give away.
Not having all the right tools and machines myself, I often take the stuff to Beit Yisrael, part of Mea She’arim – the carpentry center of Jerusalem – and have the pieces cut, fixed up, and sometimes have edges put on them.
My favorite place is Nagar Idan (“Idan carpentry”) where, right before Passover, I took the top of the table I had found to have a couple of corners rounded off and a new edge put around it.
Nachum Machluf has been “carpenting” and selling furniture here for 37 years. The 58-year-old started by apprenticing with his uncle, Annis Machluf, who never had a shop of his own but worked with other carpenters.
“My uncle showed me the ropes of carpentry when I was a teenager, as well as leadership skills,” the younger Machluf told In Jerusalem. “And I’ve been doing it ever since.”
One could reasonably assume that Nagar Idan is named after someone called Idan, but it isn’t. “I just like the name Idan – I felt a strong connection to it, so that’s the name I gave to my shop,” Machluf said. Kind of like giving a new name to a baby. And this is his baby – at least one of them.
“I opened my shop in 1987 up the street where the big fruit and vegetable market is now,” he said nostalgically. In 1994, Machluf moved to the Atarot industrial area about 12 kilometers (7.5 miles) north of Jerusalem, returning to his current location in 2009, where he has been ever since. He also had a furniture store in Mea She’arim for much of that time.
House of Israel, house of wood
Beit Yisrael (House of Israel) is the northeastern part of the haredi Jerusalem neighborhood of Mea She’arim, one of the oldest ultra-Orthodox communities outside the Old City. The neighborhoods are just off Route 60, which divides Jerusalem between east and west.
Traveling down Mea She’arim Street from Kikar Shabbat, it’s a left turn toward the end, down some, and then right to Beit Yisrael Street – home to the Mir Yeshiva, one of the largest yeshivot in Israel.
Nagar Idan is, appropriately, on a little street off to the right before Beit Yisrael Street called Hanagar (“the carpenter”). After a short ascent by car, the one-lane alley ends with stairs for descending at the other end by the yeshiva.
There are other carpentry shops on both streets, as well as metal-working shops. Machluf’s operation is on both sides of Hanagar Street; another long-standing shop is situated right next to his on one side, owned by his friend and competitor, Shaul, and his brother. I would sometimes bring wood projects to them, knowing that Shaul would always be sitting at his little desk, casually looking out at the passersby and spotting possible customers.
“We are competitors, but mutually respectful, not fighting ones,” Machluf said. They even refer work to each other if there’s too much of it, “but they usually give us more than we give them.”
Of Arabs and olives
The Nagar Idan proprietor's right-hand man is Azzam, an Arab Muslim carpenter who lives on the Mount of Olives. Azzam looked familiar, and then I realized why. “I learned carpentry right after completing school, and I worked for Shaul for 33 years – until COVID happened and he let me go,” the husky 48-year-old said. Shaul thought he would close his shop, but didn’t in the end. The brothers still come in to take on small-to-medium projects.
In the meantime, Azzam moved next door to work at Nagar Idan two years ago and has been working together with Machluf ever since. “We respect each other and have a good relationship,” he said about his previous boss, Shaul, echoing his current boss’s feelings.
Machluf lives in Moshav Agur, southwest of Beit Shemesh. He and Azzam are friends after and between hours. Even when Azzam was working for Shaul, they would sometimes eat lunch together. “He is my employee, but we’ve eaten lunch together for 10 years,” Machluf said.
They also go to each other’s significant events. “We are like family,” the carpentry shop owner said. “When Azzam’s mother passed away, I went to the funeral. When his father and his brother passed away, I went to their funerals. When my uncle Annis passed away in 2017, Azzam came. He knows my kids and I know his, and our children also have a connection with one another.”
Machluf had to reschedule his interview with In Jerusalem because Azzam had cut his finger on a saw. “Sure, carpentry is dangerous,” he said, “but so is going into the street!”
The Nagar Idan owner has a couple of other Arabs working for him. Machluf is fluent in Arabic, and his workers also speak Hebrew. “I’ve always worked with the Arab sector,” he said. “In my experience, I’m sorry to say, Jews are too spoiled. They want too much pay, and their other conditions are too demanding. My son-in-law does come sometimes to help out, though.”
Nagar Idan’s offerings, approach, & integrity
What kind of things are made at Idan Carpentry? “We make all kinds of furniture, all kinds of bimot [podiums for Torah scrolls and prayer leaders], stands, Torah scroll arks, sukkot – even ‘Chazon Ish’ ones that have stricter requirements, [as well as] sukkah wall boards, bedroom wardrobes, and also ‘cool’ things,” he said. Most of what they create is made to order. “Basically, we do all kinds of carpentry work – everything related to wood.”
Machluf also opened a little store next door three years ago, where they sell all kinds of carpentry and furniture products, tools, and accessories. “Hinges, handles, rails, and other things that go together with carpentry, for kitchens and bedrooms,” he said proudly.
He shared a story that illustrates his integrity. “A regular customer came who needed some wood cut. I cut it for him, he asked how much, and I said, ‘You don’t have to pay.’
“Then he picked out some parts from the store, and I explained what each piece does and how to use it, which took me 15 minutes. He again asked how much it all cost, and I said, ‘NIS 51.’ When I told him the price, he said ‘That’s too much!’ and left, leaving behind the bag of parts he had selected. In a little while, he came back and arrogantly said, ‘I’m angry at you!’ Why? ‘I just got all this for just NIS 28!’ I answered, ‘Right, but they didn’t give you all the advice I gave you, did they? You just collected it all, paid, and left.’”
Machluf explained that he sells the kinds of items that the man had selected in very small quantities, not hundreds like the other stores. “I sell these things to service my customers, not to profit from them,” he told his insensitive customer.
“Then I said to him, ‘Come, let’s think about this: First, give me back all the pieces of wood I cut for you. I’ll throw them in the garbage – they’re mine; go get them from there. Second, I know you give me thousands of shekels’ worth of business annually. But from this moment on, don’t come here anymore. I was very insulted – and you’re angry at me?’ I said angrily.
“His father is my friend,” Machluf continued. “I went to visit him, and the son invited me to his house nearby, but I declined, telling him I was still angry at him. A couple of months later, he did come back to apologize – and I accepted.
“We don’t try to scam, deceive, or take advantage of people – and that’s how we want to be treated in return.”
Religious carpenters & customers
Machluf chose to open his carpentry business in a religious neighborhood, and he is a religious man himself.
“We work with the haredi public, who love us very much,” he said. “There are very, very honest people here. People who buy on credit and know how to come and pay. People who realize at home that there was a mistake in the payment and then come back, even after five years, to tell us and pay.
“The ultra-Orthodox are very trustworthy – very trustworthy,” he stressed. “There is a small percentage of people who try to be too smart, but in the end they are not cheaters; they pay for everything. These aren’t people who have so much money. They live hand to mouth. They do everything to be happy, have fun and let their families enjoy themselves.
“They are very, very good people,” he said. “And they are used to us, bless God, and love us. And I think, without being condescending, that we are the number one carpenters in the area.”
Machluf explained that God gives us our livelihood and helps us to earn an honorable living and have abundance. “We’re not lacking anything. And whenever I need something, God sends it to me – at exactly the right time.”
He once needed $800 and didn’t know where he would get it from. “A lady came to me six years ago from Safed and said she needed to ask me for forgiveness. ‘For what?’ I asked with surprise. ‘I bought chairs from you five years ago for $1,800,’ she replied. ‘I gave you $1,000 and still needed to pay you another $800 but I didn’t have it. Now I do, so I’m paying you what I owe you.’” The exact amount he needed at that moment.
“This happens all the time,” he said. “And whoever cheats, loses this beneficence.”
In Jerusalem spoke with Nachum and Azzam on Thursday afternoon, at the end of their last day of work before Passover. “We never disappoint people, not even on the eve of a holiday,” Machluf said.
“When people come and need something urgently, we don’t say no. Even if they don’t have money, we always give them a discount and give them what they need. Because there are people here who are hard-working and invest their money to celebrate the holidays in the most organized and beautiful way,” he said.
“These are good people – no cheating,” Azzam said. “Nachum is a good business owner – also our neighbor Shaul, whom I worked with for 33 years. People are happy with our work.”
“Someone who loves the work and creates something always has a connection to it,” Machluf said. “All of our work is in God’s mind, which maybe we can somehow have a connection to, through that work.”
Is there hope?
My burning last question was: How does Machluf’s wife feel about his being a carpenter – and is there hope for me?
“I was a carpenter for seven years before I got married,” he replied. So, as per the 60’s love song, he was already a carpenter when he found his lady, who married him anyway. “And she likes it – because every so often, she can have the furniture replaced!”
I guess I’ll have to start finding better furniture and fixing it better. Or, as a last resort, buy it new.
“Carpentry is a good thing, a good profession, and I love it,” Machluf said. “If you love what you do, you can do a lot with it.”
At Nagar Idan, Machluf and Azzam love it, have done a lot with it, and will continue to do so.
Wooden that be just lumberful…?
