Israeli Solider

My friend Josh is an Israeli Solider. When we were young our parents were very good friends, they moved we we lost touch. In the past few months, I've reconnected with his family. Josh and I send information back and forth about Israel. I love following his tweets because he gives another more personal perspective to life in Israel...especially life as a solider. His mom was the one who sent me the article in my last blog post. As I was reading and writing about settlements from America, Josh was actually spending time there. Here are a few of his last tweets:
RT @andyls was attempted infiltration at migdal oz, 1 palestinian arrested 4 escaped
9:03 AM Jun 6th from mobile web
@andyls security guard said migdal oz or something like that
8:42 AM Jun 6th from mobile web
Left the area. Not sure how serious it was, will only be reported if someone was hurt
8:32 AM Jun 6th from mobile web
Shooting at settlement next to us, leaving now before main road is closed
8:07 AM Jun 6th from mobile web
Trying to leave the settlement, but there has been a shooting. Not sure of what is going on
8:01 AM Jun 6th from mobile web
I'm off to the Gush Etzion settlement block (south of Jerusalem) with the army for Shabbat.
11:21 PM Jun 4th from TweetDeck"

He went to the settlement for Shabbat, while he was leaving the settlement there was a shooting. They finally left, but didn't know how serious it was. Later he learned that five Palestinian tried to enter the settlement. I assume there was a shootout and some arrests.
It's interesting to hear of these stories from people actually living them, instead of a news report. It makes me think of life in my own little, yet dangerous city. I live in a nice city neighborhood surrounded by drug infested dangerous neighborhoods. There are drug deals in the park by my house. Teenage mothers who let their two-year-old wander to the park alone, but my block is nice. My neighbors are great. I'm happy there. I wouldn't want to leave. Because my husband is a prosecutor, I hear of shootings all the time. Shootings that occur four blocks from my house. My friend once commented that the nice neighborhoods in the city remind her of the settlements on the west bank, little oasises in the middle of chaos.
I'm not sure yet, what to make of it all. I know things aren't perfect on the settlements. I know Palestinians aren't the only ones who incite violence. The religious Jews can be just as dangerous. I just think, that on both sides, we forget that more than anything these are people's homes. No one wants to be forced from their homes...

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Hanging

Image
For years, I taught Elie Wiesel's Holocaust memoir, Night , in my community college classroom. Night  is the story of Elie and his father's life inside the Auschwitz and Buchenwald concentration camps during the Holocaust. It is spare, heart-wrenching, and honest. He tells the tale of a people moved from humanity to degradation and the unraveling of relationships caused by such inhumanity. Many times, broken relationships were that of fathers and sons, but they were also broken relationships with G-d. Elie struggles to hold onto his relationship with his own father while, at the same time, despairs over the violent breakdown of his relationship with G-d. While teaching, my students and I found ourselves stopping at the same passage: A young boy is arrested and hanged by the Nazis for not giving up his superior who was planning a revolt. The entire camp stood helplessly by as they watched this young boy die slowly. While death surrounds them everyday, the boy's death b
Read more

Resurrecting Levine

Image
This story was part of a writing challenge proposed by my American Jewish Lit professor in grad school. After reading Bernard Malamud's short story  from 1955, "The Angel Levine," about a Jewish black angel who saves an old Jewish tailor in order to get his wings.  The story looks deeply at Jewish identity, posing the question: what makes a Jew?  In turn, my professor asked, "where did this angel come from? What was his life when he was alive? Was he born Jewish?" Resurrecting Levine I grew up during the Harlem Renaissance, the son of an entrepreneur who made his money opening speakeasies in Jungle alley. Jazz musicians, homosexuals, bohemians, and upper class whites flocked to his establishments.  In 1926, when I was four-years-old, we moved to a Hamilton Heights brownstone. At the time (although much has changed) Hamilton heights was a desirable neighborhood for affluent whites, and my father’s success with his speakeasies sprinkled throughout Harlem
Read more

Jealousy's Funeral

Image
I'm staring at the coffin, plain, wood, filled, when she walks into the sanctuary. I can feel her as her heels pad softly against the flat brown carpet. The weight of the air shifts. Particles gather around me, closing my throat. All I can smell is my wife on her clothes. It's as if their pheromones mixed together just to taunt me. My body heaves forward. I try in vain to blow out stale fearful air, but her presence suffocates me. The word lover whispers in my ear from some unknown voice as I tightly close my eyes. I'm sure the congregation thinks I'm holding back tears for her. I am. I'm not. I don't know. I've never felt jealous in my whole life. I've never understood the nights my wife would cry in our bed or on the floor because she felt I was keeping some dark secret. For her, jealousy lived just under the surface, a constant threat to our marriage. Her crying pissed me off so much; I fantasized about hitting her, just to shut her up. Every time I
Read more