Reflection

I know I should be writing more here. There really is so much to tell, so much to share, I could write all day, but no one would read it, and, it would get boring fast, as I would have no time to go out there.

This experience is so rich. Part of the reason why I am finding it so difficult to write about it is because it's just so overwhelming. I really wish there was a way to tell you, so that you could see what I see, feel what I feel, hear what I hear, ad infinitum. Even staying in this walled-off 'Student Village' on French Hill, the ground which my feet stand upon immerses me... I am no longer an observer, far away, watching the world unfold through a LCD screen, no, now, I am a witness.

But really, what does it all mean? I can see professor Michael Dobkowski saying this, holding his hand much like italians do when they don't understand — but what does it mean?

Anyone who is certain they understand this place, this land, of them I am quite skeptical. Layers upon layers, socially-politically-culturally striated but held together so tightly, inseparable.

This is a place where there is love. No matter what you say about anyone here, or anywhere for that matter, people are people, and we all have an unalienable desire for constructive interaction.

Here there is also a poison that divides. Here lies, and lives, divisiveness. For the rest of my life I will remember walking back to the Student Village and having a specific conversation. Here is a person who believes that, because of his/her Jewishness, an Arab/Muslim would always 'hate [him/her] deep down, because [he/she] is Jewish'. Walls are a big issue here, but the biggest wall isn't the one made out of concrete of Jerusalem Stone, but the ones people perpetuate in their hearts and minds.

This is what tears me up.