Jerusalem is preparing for winter, and its rooftops are once again under inspection. Those waking up on chilly October mornings smell a faint burning scent – like smoke, or perhaps Lag BaOmer come early – until they realize the neighbors are sealing the roof ahead of the rainy season.
The newer buildings near the city’s modern core, along Shazar Boulevard and in the Mishkenot HaUma district, won’t need fresh sealing for several years. In Kiryat Moshe, Har Nof, and Beit Hakerem, recently renovated rooftops remain secure. But as one moves toward Nachlaot, Mekor Baruch, Agripas Street, and the southern lanes of Jerusalem, the rooftops appear weary before the coming rains.
Roof sealing prices in Jerusalem
In these cool mornings, the Jerusalem wind whistles between water heaters while the sound of gas torches echoes across the roofs. Workers clear debris, spread black membranes, and ensure every corner is sealed tight.
Roof sealing in Jerusalem has become the first line of defense against the rain and occasional snow that accompany the city’s winters. Contractors market themselves as certified professionals, offering rates between 40 and 70 shekels per square meter, depending on roof complexity. For many families in Mekor Baruch, Zikhron Toviah, or Mea Shearim, the cost is too high – and doing it themselves is out of the question.
Nostalgia on Jerusalem’s rooftops
It wasn’t always like this. In the 1950s and ’60s, residents sealed roofs by hand – with open barrels of tar and thick smoke curling above the courtyards. The smell of bitumen mixed with the aromas of cooking and the laughter of children playing below. One barrel of tar could cover a roof in a single day before rolling to the next house.
Today, sealing can take over a week: cleaning, scrubbing, washing, drying, and finally applying the modern bitumen layers. The process costs families time, money, and patience – and neighbors endure the noise and dust until it’s done.
This week, an old rooftop on Giv’a Street in Nachlaot was repaired. The homeowner said the damp ceiling reminded her of the famous scene from Sallah Shabati, when rain poured in through an unsealed roof.
“At our place there are always a few buckets on standby,” says Shuki, a nearby resident. “No matter how well you seal, water always finds a crack.” He and his family won’t be cheering when the first snow falls in February 2026 – the white layer may hide Jerusalem’s flaws, but it won’t keep their ceilings dry.
