Disorientation
I walked off the plane in Tel Aviv about ready to lose my mind. The trip total was almost 24 hours since I had left and my body was not happy about the new infection that had entered it. The icing on the cake was a 50 minute bus ride to Jerusalem that was driven by a man who had evidently never seen a brake pedal in his life. The man sat high in his seat sporting wrap around sun glasses while nine of us passengers survived in the back of his taller-than-wide Mercedes Benz van. It was all I could do to put my head on the seat in front of me and pray that I would not have to vomit in this unfriendly man's vehicle.
And so this is how I entered the holy land: dizzy, sleepless, and unable to speak clearly. Our first security check point was my first wake up call. The bus was stopped and a man with an M-1 machine gun stepped on to look at each of us, making sure we didn't appear suspicious. As if getting stopped at several security check points and having my carry on baggage held for 2 hours didn't wake me up enough in the airport, the reality of racial tension and military occupancy stared me down right there in my blue eyes to see if I was a part of the problem.
In terms of everyday life in Israel, I experienced the norm. The norm is to be turned away from entering because you are not Muslim. The norm is to be turned away because you are not Jewish. The norm is to ride the bus for Arabs or the bus for Jews. The norm is for 18 year old soldiers to carry around their prized machine guns. The norm is to have a gate on your dorm window and a bomb shelter next door.
It has taken me days to get used to the pace, the process, the routine of life here in Jerusalem. Though antibiotics depleting my system are surely not helping all that much either. In this readjustment for what is normal, I find that my racism, prejudices, judgments, and fears all rise to the surface. Because everything and everyone is either different or operates in a different manner here, I am faced with those things I didn't realize were below in my heart. And, I don't have the option of scowling at the differentiation, because I am the minority.
Living through a few days of almost complete unknown, including familiar faces or people to talk to, is certainly something I had thought would be no big deal. I have been proven wrong and am thankful that God has provided for me in numerous ways so far. And, as things become more familiar over the next few weeks, I pray that I am reminded to be grateful for all that I am given, so that I can, all-in-all, experience this trip with eyes to see what I never have.
And so this is how I entered the holy land: dizzy, sleepless, and unable to speak clearly. Our first security check point was my first wake up call. The bus was stopped and a man with an M-1 machine gun stepped on to look at each of us, making sure we didn't appear suspicious. As if getting stopped at several security check points and having my carry on baggage held for 2 hours didn't wake me up enough in the airport, the reality of racial tension and military occupancy stared me down right there in my blue eyes to see if I was a part of the problem.
In terms of everyday life in Israel, I experienced the norm. The norm is to be turned away from entering because you are not Muslim. The norm is to be turned away because you are not Jewish. The norm is to ride the bus for Arabs or the bus for Jews. The norm is for 18 year old soldiers to carry around their prized machine guns. The norm is to have a gate on your dorm window and a bomb shelter next door.
It has taken me days to get used to the pace, the process, the routine of life here in Jerusalem. Though antibiotics depleting my system are surely not helping all that much either. In this readjustment for what is normal, I find that my racism, prejudices, judgments, and fears all rise to the surface. Because everything and everyone is either different or operates in a different manner here, I am faced with those things I didn't realize were below in my heart. And, I don't have the option of scowling at the differentiation, because I am the minority.
Living through a few days of almost complete unknown, including familiar faces or people to talk to, is certainly something I had thought would be no big deal. I have been proven wrong and am thankful that God has provided for me in numerous ways so far. And, as things become more familiar over the next few weeks, I pray that I am reminded to be grateful for all that I am given, so that I can, all-in-all, experience this trip with eyes to see what I never have.
posted by jitzig at 6:59 AM
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