Global musings - dispatches from Carey

Israel | July 21, 2018

Hello my loves!

Four days. How the last drops of studying abroad are slipping by with rapidity. Time, that eternal yet ephemeral character in every story.

My final full week in Israel proved no less dull than its predecessors. Sunday brought us to the Security/Apartheid Wall (depending on the Israeli or Palestinian perspective) with Colonel Danny Tirza, who was the IDF's chief architect for the barrier separating East and West Jerusalem. Pride burst from his grandiloquent tale as he chronicled the terrors perverting the innocent lives of his citizens by the monsters over the fence.

Crossing into East Jerusalem, the breeding ground of Tirza's miscreants, we met with the leaders of Roots. Pioneered by an Israeli and Palestinian, this NGO imbues one with hope in a land of the hopeless, for its grassroots momentum coaxes the surrounding community to extend olive branches to the vilified "other". It is far easier to fathom peace when your partner is perceived as your neighbour rather than a dehumanized body wielding a gun.

But oh, how ironic life is.

In the midst of explaining coexistence initiatives, our speaker was interrupted by the yelps of a dog. IDF soldiers had come to demolish the family's foundation for a greenhouse due to security concerns. Their rationale for robbing the owner of what was supposed to harvest his grapes? "We are following orders."

The wall. The contorting of humans into weapons. Where is the partner for peace? And a little closer to home, is that what our southern border is to mirror in the suddenly real and impending future?

There's a reason we only have class every-other day. Debriefs are a necessity if one is to swallow what we witness (and to think that is every day for many). Anyhow, Monday I worked again in the little haven of a cafe I mentioned in the previous Dispatch. The day concluded with a splendid tour of the Old City and a spectacular light show which danced across the stage of the walls of the Tower of David.

Tuesday was quite bureaucratic. We met with the Ministry of Foreign Affair's Middle East Affairs Director, toured the Supreme Court (your resident judiciary nerd was in her element), and spoke with two members of the Knesset (Israel's parliament).

My small taste of Palestine on Monday simply did not satiate. Wednesday called for an early morning as I ventured on a tour of Ramallah and Bethlehem in the West Bank. My tour guide was quite gregarious. His ire and vexation kindled his presentation of the home he loved and its enemy next door with ardent conviction. Imagine spending your entire life inside a cage, your heart pounding for a state that does not exist to the outside world.

We were supposed to go to the Gaza border on Thursday. Much to my chagrin, that did not happen. So, a resident of the small border town Sderot came and shared a day in the life of his community. What can you do in fifteen seconds? Think about it. Now imagine running for your life. For that is all the time the members of this town have to shield themselves from impaling Gazan rockets. After, we Skyped with two Gazans- one who harbours hope and one who does not. I thought the West Bank was restricted. Gaza is manifold. I hesitate to share the atrocities over email as their intricacies warrant far more prudence than this medium can provide.

That afternoon, we escaped the morass of the world and absconded to the desert. Soft and still lay the world rolling out in dunes under the stars. For a moment, pretending this oasis was the whole globe seemed possible. Maybe Thoreau had a point.

Friday morning we woke to hike Masada and greeted the sun as it stained the world with its familiar golden glow. We were in the fortress of the people who dared to kill themselves in the face of conquerers. What humans do to survive, to preserve their legacy, to salvage their identity. Is it heroism or is it hubris? At the end of the day though, it's still a captivating tale.

The Dead Sea is bizarre. I'm not quite sure what I was expecting, but this certainly was not it. Floating? Flying? Zero gravity? Still trying to figure out that one.

Last night wrapped up the day with my first Shabbat dinner. We all dined at Meira's (the wittiest and most amusing of all the program coordinators) and unwound in the comfort of a non-academic setting.

Today was back to the books, crafting essays and preparing for work back home.

I'm sorry for the weight of this round. I look forward to exploring all the ideas and experiences I have had with you all. I am eager for your questions, your perspectives, your own musings. Good god the world is a complicated place, my dears.

I hope all is well in New England, Chicago, and Toronto. In a pocket of the world where so many have so few, my heart swells with love for you all.

Yours,

Carey