What a day....
Phew... What a day...
Jules and I were bickering.
It is his first time in Israel,
And he want to See, See, See....
I am walking through a past time dream,....
And I want to FEEL it.....
And to process it....
And to experience it
and to heal.....
I want to LISTEN....
And this means staying still.
We visit a small museum in Tiberius.
They broadcast a documentary
About the history of the land.
It is a retrospective, a poetic reflection...
And when it ends,
A sweet, sad, and very old song,
Sings about brotherhood,
About an old vision of sharing the land
Between Arabs and Jews....
I am crying, and crying....
While the credits are rolling...
And I see that the movie,
We just watched,
was made by
ANOTHER lover of mine...
We shared so such passion,
So many hours of love and ideas,
And so little time to express them all....
We stayed up at nights,
Loving and talking and dreaming out loud....
And I am flooded with memories....
Awed by the synchronicity of it all,
Have I really slept with SO MANY guys?
Or are they all showing up now?
One by one?
As I walk through this dream?
The tears are streaming down my cheeks..
What happened to my country?
What happened to the vision and hopes?
How did we go from Igal Alon,
to Ariel Sharon?
I dry my tears,
And we push on.
We drive around the Sea of Galilee,
We see ancient churches, and domes,
Crosses, banana plantations, mangos,
Date palms, a fertile valley.
We stop to see an ancient boat.
It is an archeological find from over 2000 years ago.
Nobody makes the associations
That He,..... who walked on water,
Actually may have used this boat.
it could have happened....
Or,
It may have just been a humble fishing boat,
Used for fishing, by anonymous and company.
A story is written on the wall,
Beside the ancient boat.
It says: "Jesus, walking by the Sea of Galilee
Saw two brethren,
PETER and Andrew
Casting nets into the sea....
For they were fishers.
He said unto them,
"Follow me..... And I will make you fisher of MEN..."
We pass by St. Peter's Church,
I stop to take picture of Peter's name,
And the large, ancient ROCK, on the shores of the sea.
We pick up a hitch hiker.
It is HOT and he stands without a shade.
We are NOT going anywhere,
Just sight seeing.....
With no destination in mind.
but,
He is happy to catch a ride to the next major intersection.
We do NOT drive far....
When we spot a major car crash.
White smoke is everywhere,
A minivan is laying on its side.
People are climbing out of the broken windows.
I ask the hitch hiker to call emergency services.
"Ask also for the fire department, and an ambulance"
He follows my instructions.
Jules say I should attend to one of the victims.
I get out of the car and run to her side.
She fainted and she is alone and shaking.
She is laying on the boiling asphalt.
I loosen her vail,
And I wash her face,
She mumbles in Arabic.
I know just enough, to to ask if she is hurt...
To reassures her that she will be OK...
I ask for her name...
On closer examination,
She looks unharmed, not bleeding,
not paralyzed.
Just in shock, and she is coming
In and out of consciousness.
I sit on the boiling hot asphalt by her side,
And I speak softly to her.
I alternate between English, halting Arabic and Hebrew.
Many Israeli Arabs, speak perfect Hebrew.
I only know basic affectionate words in Arabic,
I use them all on her.....
She smiles at me achingly....
She holds on to my hand.
I hold her in my arms.
I caress her hot cheeks,
She is holding her bulging stomach,
I ask her if she is pregnant...
She says No.
The ambulance comes.
Jules and the hitch hiker, are helping the paramedics
To transfer her to a stretcher.
Before she let's go of my hand,
I promise her that everything will be OK...
How do I KNOW that everything will be OK?
I do not.
I just feel that it will.
The other victims are fine.
Except for one old lady, who badly cut her arm.
She is weak and hurt.
I rub her back and balance her from falling.
I hug her,
As they bandage her severely cut arm.
The scene is packed now with emergency vehicles,
so we find our hitch hiker,
And we vacate the place.
What a day...
We drive into Nazareth.
We walk the stony streets of the old city,
Drink strong coffee.
We eat the best hummus ever
And some delicious salads
Served with a large, fire baked pita bread.
My emails as always,
Give me strength and comfort.
I find joy in the words of my friend,
Who sent me his thoughts to read.
His words make me laugh again.
I did not think I can find joy, so fast.
People are so warm to us here....
I have not even began to recount it all.
In a hair salon,
Jules was getting a buzz cut.
Two young women were sitting next to me,
As I write in my Ipad.
One is resting her arm on my shoulder
Intimately reaching into my space, into my world.
The other, is leaning on my thigh.
At the bank, when I tried to get cashier check,
For a wedding gift,
The teller REFUSED to take my money.
"Silly girl," she berates me, "Put cash in the envelope instead,
you do NOT need to pay $13 for a cashier check,
why waste your money?
Give them cash,
everyone loves cash!
Jules is having the same experiences.
People will just NOT rip him off in this country.
The teller at the foreign exchange counter,
Will NOT change his American dollars...
"GO to a private money exchange"
She tells him, "They are on the next block,
and they will give you a BETTER rate than our bank will,
AND, they will not charge you commission."
We leave the bank feeling as if we are walking in a dream.
Jules and I were bickering.
It is his first time in Israel,
And he want to See, See, See....
I am walking through a past time dream,....
And I want to FEEL it.....
And to process it....
And to experience it
and to heal.....
I want to LISTEN....
And this means staying still.
We visit a small museum in Tiberius.
They broadcast a documentary
About the history of the land.
It is a retrospective, a poetic reflection...
And when it ends,
A sweet, sad, and very old song,
Sings about brotherhood,
About an old vision of sharing the land
Between Arabs and Jews....
I am crying, and crying....
While the credits are rolling...
And I see that the movie,
We just watched,
was made by
ANOTHER lover of mine...
We shared so such passion,
So many hours of love and ideas,
And so little time to express them all....
We stayed up at nights,
Loving and talking and dreaming out loud....
And I am flooded with memories....
Awed by the synchronicity of it all,
Have I really slept with SO MANY guys?
Or are they all showing up now?
One by one?
As I walk through this dream?
The tears are streaming down my cheeks..
What happened to my country?
What happened to the vision and hopes?
How did we go from Igal Alon,
to Ariel Sharon?
I dry my tears,
And we push on.
We drive around the Sea of Galilee,
We see ancient churches, and domes,
Crosses, banana plantations, mangos,
Date palms, a fertile valley.
We stop to see an ancient boat.
It is an archeological find from over 2000 years ago.
Nobody makes the associations
That He,..... who walked on water,
Actually may have used this boat.
it could have happened....
Or,
It may have just been a humble fishing boat,
Used for fishing, by anonymous and company.
A story is written on the wall,
Beside the ancient boat.
It says: "Jesus, walking by the Sea of Galilee
Saw two brethren,
PETER and Andrew
Casting nets into the sea....
For they were fishers.
He said unto them,
"Follow me..... And I will make you fisher of MEN..."
We pass by St. Peter's Church,
I stop to take picture of Peter's name,
And the large, ancient ROCK, on the shores of the sea.
We pick up a hitch hiker.
It is HOT and he stands without a shade.
We are NOT going anywhere,
Just sight seeing.....
With no destination in mind.
but,
He is happy to catch a ride to the next major intersection.
We do NOT drive far....
When we spot a major car crash.
White smoke is everywhere,
A minivan is laying on its side.
People are climbing out of the broken windows.
I ask the hitch hiker to call emergency services.
"Ask also for the fire department, and an ambulance"
He follows my instructions.
Jules say I should attend to one of the victims.
I get out of the car and run to her side.
She fainted and she is alone and shaking.
She is laying on the boiling asphalt.
I loosen her vail,
And I wash her face,
She mumbles in Arabic.
I know just enough, to to ask if she is hurt...
To reassures her that she will be OK...
I ask for her name...
On closer examination,
She looks unharmed, not bleeding,
not paralyzed.
Just in shock, and she is coming
In and out of consciousness.
I sit on the boiling hot asphalt by her side,
And I speak softly to her.
I alternate between English, halting Arabic and Hebrew.
Many Israeli Arabs, speak perfect Hebrew.
I only know basic affectionate words in Arabic,
I use them all on her.....
She smiles at me achingly....
She holds on to my hand.
I hold her in my arms.
I caress her hot cheeks,
She is holding her bulging stomach,
I ask her if she is pregnant...
She says No.
The ambulance comes.
Jules and the hitch hiker, are helping the paramedics
To transfer her to a stretcher.
Before she let's go of my hand,
I promise her that everything will be OK...
How do I KNOW that everything will be OK?
I do not.
I just feel that it will.
The other victims are fine.
Except for one old lady, who badly cut her arm.
She is weak and hurt.
I rub her back and balance her from falling.
I hug her,
As they bandage her severely cut arm.
The scene is packed now with emergency vehicles,
so we find our hitch hiker,
And we vacate the place.
What a day...
We drive into Nazareth.
We walk the stony streets of the old city,
Drink strong coffee.
We eat the best hummus ever
And some delicious salads
Served with a large, fire baked pita bread.
My emails as always,
Give me strength and comfort.
I find joy in the words of my friend,
Who sent me his thoughts to read.
His words make me laugh again.
I did not think I can find joy, so fast.
People are so warm to us here....
I have not even began to recount it all.
In a hair salon,
Jules was getting a buzz cut.
Two young women were sitting next to me,
As I write in my Ipad.
One is resting her arm on my shoulder
Intimately reaching into my space, into my world.
The other, is leaning on my thigh.
At the bank, when I tried to get cashier check,
For a wedding gift,
The teller REFUSED to take my money.
"Silly girl," she berates me, "Put cash in the envelope instead,
you do NOT need to pay $13 for a cashier check,
why waste your money?
Give them cash,
everyone loves cash!
Jules is having the same experiences.
People will just NOT rip him off in this country.
The teller at the foreign exchange counter,
Will NOT change his American dollars...
"GO to a private money exchange"
She tells him, "They are on the next block,
and they will give you a BETTER rate than our bank will,
AND, they will not charge you commission."
We leave the bank feeling as if we are walking in a dream.
