A Reflection
“Even worse is that you know there are guns pointing down at you – as you have seen in the hands of young Israeli military at crossroads and marching through towns.”
A reflection, having had a couple of days away from Palestine.
One can read all one wants, but one can never fully grasp the enormity of the difficulties and humiliations Palestinians face each day. Just the walls that confine them are impenetrable symbols. You know they are concrete, but you cannot simply comprehend their impact until you stand next to them and gaze up at the barbed wire and watchtowers positioned along them. Even worse is that you know there are guns pointing down at you – as you have seen in the hands of young Israeli military at crossroads and marching through towns.
You stand on a hillock, staring at Israeli settlements scattered across the land. White tower blocks gleaming in the sun. And below them, modest Palestinian villages, each house topped by a black water tank, storing the precious water allotted to them in small quantities – once the settlers get their unlimited supply from the same system.
Two grade schools, side by side in Lydda: one shiny new and decorated with blue and white flags and streamers; the other dark and shabby, the playground dusty grey.
