(My friend Jan Therien traveled to Israel and the occupied West Bank late last year. It was her first visit ever to any part of the Middle East. Before she left, I asked her to take notes and be prepared to write her impressions for my website. Below is her first contribution. FF)
East Jerusalem. The Old City.
We walked through winding, narrow cobbled streets lined with vendors selling everything from shoes, scarves, and falafel, to produce beyond beautiful. Positioned at most every intersection of streets and concentrations of market stalls were Israeli soldiers.
They rarely met our eyes, absorbed superficially in conversations with fellow soldiers. All were heavily armed and removed from interactions on a personal level yet very intent and observant of their surroundings. Most appeared to be very young. Now and then their eyes would meet mine. It was not meanness nor dislike that I saw in their young eyes. Rather, a softness and apprehensiveness, sometimes a remote desire for connecting is what I saw and felt.
My traveling companion and I found the shop we were looking for. I will not describe the history nor location of the shop because I fear for most Palestinian merchants in the Old City of East Jerusalem right now.
The shop was marvelous, unique and with a presence of mystery within it. The owner was the third generation of his family to operate this shop, even while the artisanship behind his products was being lost. We purchased crafts and arts from him, conversing as we did so, and this memorable conversation emerged.
I asked about his perceptions and feelings of the current state of the occupation and the future for this “Holy Land”, and he shared with me: “You know, until we are justly free with whatever remains of our country returned to us, there will be killings. They will kill us. We will kill them. But the difference is, we do not kill their children. I look into the faces of these children now Israeli soldiers. I look into the faces of these Israeli soldiers. I look into the eyes of these young Israeli soldiers. I wonder. How do they feel? How do they feel killing our children? Do they have feelings when they shoot and kill our children?
“I can’t tell. I don’t know.
“All I can do is pray for them.”
Jerusalem, 11/14/15