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Lova and War in Jerusalem
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2232
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Posted by
sharifin
Friday, April 05, 2002
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I don't remember which day it was, as there were many like it. It was traumatic, but there have been many like it. I don't know exactly when this story started, nor why and where I came into it or where it is going. I don't even know why I bother talking about it...
On that day I made an effort to walk up the hill and down again on the other side to go to the latihan in the beautiful German Colony of the city.
I had overcome whatever it was that had paralyzed me and was glad to walk though such peaceful neighborhoods, passed whatever is left of the neighborhood cafe where I used to meet with friends after work or for breakfast on Friday mornings, past the prime minister's residence next to the ruins of a blast that was intended to smack his face, through the streets and parks with the sweet smell of jasmine in the air.
I was on the bus that day heading home, when on the way down town it became apparent that there had been an attack. The driver continued on his route trusting that he would be lead off it by security forces as we approach the scene. Passed the market the passengers emerge hoping to make it home by foot as quickly as possible through the mess and bewilderment.
The streets are so different, sirens from all sides, but I know where to head and where my instincts will take me, this surreal scene is too familiar already. "Where are you going, all streets descending closed! Go home!"
I push my way through the roadblock as I live that way. Whoever isn't running is standing and staring like trees that would like to move but have no where to go because that would disturb there purpose.
People heading in all directions, making any direction seem like a dead end. But I’m not thinking about directions, my legs walk automatically, only what happened to those two boys on the bus? They are no older than my little sister, seven or eight perhaps. I know where they live; I’ve seen them get off that bus with their mother waiting for them. When we left the bus, they stayed behind. Who took them away from that place, who will return them to their mother waiting for them at the bus stop.
I keep walking, running, avoiding eye contact. a rioting crowd is beating someone, he's my age, I don't care anymore and it hurts. Police take him into custody to save him from the mob, our terror, our desperation and our helplessness in his eyes. Then I blank out drugged by the sirens surrounding me. My knees are week but my legs keep on walking until I reach home.
I spoke to my little sister on the phone the other night, telling her about Israel, about this miracle I have grown to love so much. And she stopped me and asked: "How did the nazis know who was a Jew?" I remember waking up in Vienna one day and realizing I was the only Jew around and I could not answer to her satisfaction. "And how do the Paleminians know who is a Jew?"
How do I tell her that this is not a war of Jews against Arabs, but one of people loving this land to pieces? How do I explain to her that everything that happens in this world today, all good things as well as bad ones, definitely happen to Israel? How can I give assurance as her older brother, when I am just confused? And what happened to those boys I left behind on that bus?
Finally I reached the school in which we rent two rooms. It's a small group and they are my family here. I forced a smile onto my lips, they know my story, and I needn't try to talk. Just to utter a sigh in relief that I could surrender it, and give thanks that there is still a very small space in this city for the latihan. Sharifin.
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| Lova and War in Jerusalem | Log-in or register a new user account | 4 Comments |
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Re: Lova and War in Jerusalem
(Score: 1)
by Mitchell (aseala@hotmail.com)
on Apr 08, 2002 - 04:52 PM
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Dear brother, my heart goes out to you. I'm sitting here listening to the waves rock against this shore, birds calling, and the sweet melody of day unfolding. More than that, I sit in a country full of peace. I know how thin is the thread that seperates us from chaos, but life in Israel seems so far away from me right now. I think my life has been too easy; I can barely comprehend what it must be like to live in a war zone.
That said I'm grateful for the life that surrounds me now. I also have a good friend of mine in Israel right now, Rodiyah Ben Ami, who I probably haven't stopped worrying about since she left Australia months ago. It's funny htough, the more time goes on, and the more I pray for Israel, the more I find that simply living my life through the fullness of the latihan is all i can really do to help. Suddenly prayers take on a fuller meaning, and I know that every little bit helps. Blessings be with you brother, from my heart to yours across the oceans.
~Mitchell
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Re: Lova and War in Jerusalem
(Score: 1)
by odette (odettemichell@hotmail.com)
on Apr 14, 2002 - 04:28 AM
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Dear Sharifin
My lovely brother and friend. I hope you may remember that wherever you are you have friends how remeber you in their prayers and daily lives. That includes me, pallyo. Take of yourself, you are in a place of adventures, disaster and grace... You will get thru.God be with you ! LOTS of love to you from Odette, your sis.
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Re: Lova and War in Jerusalem
(Score: 0)
by Anonymous on Jun 07, 2002 - 12:35 PM
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Sharifin
What would i say as a Palestinian when i see the Israeli tanks destroying my home, killing my brother and sister, at least you have a house where you can go at night and sleep, i don't!!!
Untill now i can't understand why Israel is killing us, and beleive me Sharifin the most difficult thing is to live under terror and then balme you for that.
Fares
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