The Great Wall of Israel; the boxed town
- By: Huda Ayyad
- Created on: 08/28/2009
- Rated By 0 Users
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Leaving America last summer to the war side of Israel was not one of those paradise vacations an American would have. Before crossing the border from Jordan to Israel, I was in fear. Fear that I would witness the tragedies of war.
As I arrived at my box like destination surrounded by multiple 6 to 10 feet high walls, it was like living a trapped life. The only destination was from my guest home to my neighbors. Even these simple trips can not be made because they were just a couple of miles away. The wall it was that would hide my neighbors as if they were far away.
My days got better when I began to visit the other side of town. The Holy Land, as they call it, is so beautiful as all come together to worship one land. My bus ride home would be sightseeing the organized red roofed top homes with the Israeli flags raised high, and the ghetto mismatched homes with the Palestinian flags also raised high on the other side.
Thinking of something both sides would have in contrast; a child calling home. This ride would also be a time of interacting with the locals of town. As I spoke my English language they would ask, “Where you from are and welcome to our town.”
Arrival at my guest home would be of welcoming, and questioning. As if I went far away, but really I was just a couple of minutes away. The box is what keeps my hosts away from the Holy Land. My American passport is like a special VIP card that grants me access to anywhere in the land. But my host’s Palestinian green card keeps them away from the Holy Land.
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