Stepping into the unknown

For the sake of full disclosure, these are the exact words that came into my head when I entered Israel: “Why would anyone fight over this god-forsaken land?” All I could see was dirt. Miles and miles of dirt, dust and desert. I entered via Jordan, so I was already tired and disoriented from the nearly five hours it took me to go from taxi to taxi and bus to bus and line to line all so I could be questioned by Israeli security at the border. The drive from the border to Jerusalem was around 30 minutes. There were small “homes” that I could see from the road, which can only be described as glorified tents. The dust and dirt was so heavy that it made it impossible to see very far in any direction, which gave me a surreal sense of claustrophobia. Nothing at all was remotely familiar. I could not even begin to compare it to anywhere I have been in the U.S. or abroad. I was literally questioning my ability to stay here for the next three months of my life.

Then I met the people. I experienced the Palestinian hospitality that I had heard so much about. I saw how even under occupation, they were still happy and welcoming and extremely excited that this worn down American was in their homeland, and now a part of their lives. I was immediately part of a family. Instantaneously, I knew that I could count on these perfect strangers for anything. It didn’t matter that we could not verbally communicate very well, or that I couldn’t remember any names. Genuine kindness is not stopped by minute details such as language; it crosses cultural and language barriers effortlessly. And I remembered why I came here. Not to see the sights, not to let some 18 year old Israeli security officer bring me down, but to make genuine connections with people living a life that would not happen in my wildest dream, or my worst nightmare.

Submitted by: AB