This past weekend I had the amazing experience of going to Israel. I feel as if I could stop the story there and it would speak for itself...considering everything that has been going on in the region in the recent months and weeks. But...it was such an amazing weekend, I have been inspired to dust off my blog and try to put my three days there into words.
It started on tentative terms...that is, I was not sure that I would be actually able to fly into Tel Aviv on my prescheduled flight past the missiles that were coming all too close - but not hitting, thanks to Iron Dome -- a city that is normally oblivious to the conflict that surrounds it. The cease fire was signed and so, I was persuaded to keep my plans...and I couldn't be more happy that I did.
I was visiting a friend who works for the UN in Jerusalem. In most other places in the world, dropping the name of the UN is a safety net, but not in Israel. I had been warned of this fact and it was confirmed when my airport shuttle driver drove me in circles around Jerusalem rather than take me to my destination -- UNRWA...and the adventures had begun. Eventually, I found my way to Davide, my amazing host.
The weekend plan was perfect -- a West Bank experience on Saturday and then some Dead Sea spa time on Sunday.
We headed out to Hebron, in the safety of a tour, on Saturday morning. The tour guide -- part guide, but mostly Palestinian activist -- started narrating what we were seeing as we drove toward Hebron. That is, endless fences, seemingly patch-worked around the road. Keeping Palestinians safe (?) but also separated from their olive fields, easy access to their homes, and in some cases, their families and former neighbors.
Then we arrived in Hebron, the second largest city in the West Bank and the city that is often described as being the center of the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. I am still trying to understand what we saw there -- a city that was divided into two parts H1 and H2 in order to keep Israeli settlers safe from their "encroaching" neighbors. The division of the city in 1997 separated many Palestinians from their livelihood, shut down the apparently once bustling commercial center and reinforced the artificial distinction of its inhabitants.
Walking around, the tension on the street was palpable and undeniable, only reflected so clearly by the endless number of machine guns at every turn. Yes, yes, when questioned by the IDF soldier with a HUGE machine gun I froze -- what is the right answer to a question like "where are you from?" when the questioner's finger appears to be nearing the trigger of his giant machine gun?? dime!
To get an idea about Hebron, I recommend watching this:
It started on tentative terms...that is, I was not sure that I would be actually able to fly into Tel Aviv on my prescheduled flight past the missiles that were coming all too close - but not hitting, thanks to Iron Dome -- a city that is normally oblivious to the conflict that surrounds it. The cease fire was signed and so, I was persuaded to keep my plans...and I couldn't be more happy that I did.
I was visiting a friend who works for the UN in Jerusalem. In most other places in the world, dropping the name of the UN is a safety net, but not in Israel. I had been warned of this fact and it was confirmed when my airport shuttle driver drove me in circles around Jerusalem rather than take me to my destination -- UNRWA...and the adventures had begun. Eventually, I found my way to Davide, my amazing host.
The weekend plan was perfect -- a West Bank experience on Saturday and then some Dead Sea spa time on Sunday.
We headed out to Hebron, in the safety of a tour, on Saturday morning. The tour guide -- part guide, but mostly Palestinian activist -- started narrating what we were seeing as we drove toward Hebron. That is, endless fences, seemingly patch-worked around the road. Keeping Palestinians safe (?) but also separated from their olive fields, easy access to their homes, and in some cases, their families and former neighbors.
Then we arrived in Hebron, the second largest city in the West Bank and the city that is often described as being the center of the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. I am still trying to understand what we saw there -- a city that was divided into two parts H1 and H2 in order to keep Israeli settlers safe from their "encroaching" neighbors. The division of the city in 1997 separated many Palestinians from their livelihood, shut down the apparently once bustling commercial center and reinforced the artificial distinction of its inhabitants.
Walking around, the tension on the street was palpable and undeniable, only reflected so clearly by the endless number of machine guns at every turn. Yes, yes, when questioned by the IDF soldier with a HUGE machine gun I froze -- what is the right answer to a question like "where are you from?" when the questioner's finger appears to be nearing the trigger of his giant machine gun?? dime!
To get an idea about Hebron, I recommend watching this:
I can say with absolute certainty that I have never experienced anything like Hebron before -- maybe another place like it does not exist. It was a heavy experience -- exemplified well by some of these pictures (photo credit for nearly all of the below (incredible) pictures goes to Davide).
The experience was all the more surreal when we returned to Jerusalem and later that night when out to bars in West Jerusalem. The contrast was mind blowing. In Hebron, the conflict was on the forefront of every single person's mind -- the inescapable reality of living with neighbors who abhor your existence and of having to walk through a machine gun guarded check points to get from home to the market or school. But, a mere 20-30 km away, we were on a bar street, that could have been in any city in the world, drinking beers and listening to Calvin Harris...
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| Walls and more walls |
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| A former commercial center |
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| The photographer, Davide |
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| The former jewelry market |
And so was my introduction to Israel.
Which is not to say that it was all heavy, we lightened things up eventually with a tour around the old city. On top of the mind blowing political situation -- Jerusalem is, after all, a historical feast. I was staying on the Mt. of Olives, where Jesus is said to have been crucified, and walked through the Damascus Gate into the old town, which is apparently the oldest city in the world.
We topped it all off with a float in the Dead Sea, a massage, a dead sea mud wrap, and drinks along the beach in Tel Aviv.
How about that for a weekend?
