Old clothes – I have a closet full of old clothes, some only a year old – some from forty years back – all very foreign, like life before. i keep trying to take things out and throw them out, but then I think – maybe we haven’t aged irrevocably. Maybe we won’t be nuked by Iran, although I am not totally sure of Joe’s wisdom.
But as for my dialogue with the visitors from Nablus, our little conversation has ended – I sent the pictures to the guys and they said thanks and goodbye. so I don’t think that I’ll be visiting them in Nablus any time soon.
The last time I was in Nablus was over fifty years ago. My ex did business there and we visited the manager frequently, even going up to the Mount of the Samaritans on Passover. The secretary’s father was high priest there. Her name was Iftikar, and I was sure we would be visiting frequently in the near future when we made peace.
I was sure I’d be sitting in the beautiful courtyard in Nablus and showing Tel Aviv to the extremely sophisticated and pleasant people I’d met there, entertaining them in our little apartment. But I never did anything to make that happen.
So I’m sitting in the back of the cart we rented for our visit to the zoo, and the Safari is crowded with families all over. The animals were all full of beans, courting each other all over, and everyone was having a great time
These kissing chimps are representative of what was going on. The peacocks opened their glory to uninterested peahens and shuddered all over with desire.
I kept thinking of Chaucer and his description of April with all the birds awake at night with hormones, and how it brings all the people out to go on pilgrimages.
“Whan that Aprille …”
Because it is Friday, most of the families were Arab, and I may have learned some names of animals from the lessons the mothers were giving to their children.
But then, sitting in the back of the cart we rented to let my bleeding big toe rest, I saw three young men walking as fast as Ezi was driving – smiling and seeming very happy and free. I took up my camera, asked them silently for permission, and they joyfully agreed. Not only did they agree, but they wanted copies – and caught up to ask me to send them. After failing miserably, I passed the camera back to Ezi, who worked long and hard with the biggest narcissist to get them through while i askedthe other two in Hebrew “Where are you guys from?” because i couldn’t remember the Arabic. They answered together “Nablus.” “Walla!” I answered.
It turned out we have to become friends on Facebook to get the pictures through, and I think my new friend is a barber. But I don’t know if we should stay friends. Barbers have a special place in my heart.
There is a distinction I make between the public Holocaust memorial and the private Holocaust sense. For me, I try to distance myself from the public. I didn’t want to watch the ceremony and preferred a stupid series instead – especially since I feared the event would become political in some way. And indeed it did – Our PM reminded us of his responsibility for the vaccination drive, I was told again and again in the news.
As the evening began, thoughts and memories came to me – new recollections filled my mind. Here’s one example:
absence
“What are you looking for?”
We’d ask Mother, as she rummaged
A cupboard or a drawer or the phone book.
“My lost youth,” she’d answer
Absent-mindedly, having forgotten
Whatever had occupied her mind
When she first began to search.
The bombs, the soldiers, the streets
Covered with bodies, the story of the children
Smashed against the wall, her babies
Washed down the drain in the bathtub in Danzig
They were always
Right there in the cupboard, the drawer,
The book next to the telephone.
This morning both Ezi and I stayed home to work on banal red tape – we stayed in our different rooms and didn’t discuss anything. But when the siren sounded I stood in the doorway at attention and found myself looking into a mirror where I could see Ezi standing at attention as well. We were, it seems, both in our private Holocaust thoughts.
three cheers for President Rivlin. He’s shown he’s got a conscience even though he has to operate within legal restraints. May his moral conscience spread….
For the past four years we’ve been walking on the Israel Trail, or rather, my group has been walking and I’ve been shlepping behind – breathless, pale, aching. Our guide emphasizes archeology and we learn about the specific sites – many thousands of years of history. The walking is never easy – yesterday was almost impossible for me – but when we got to Megiddo I almost forgot that my toes were bleeding.
The site has been closed for over a year, and is still really not open yet, because they are still rebuilding the site which has been ravaged and plundered by archeologists over the past hundred years. Not because of some hunger for wealth, but because there are over 20 layers of civilization there and I imagine that each time a different layer interested the diggers so they threw away the later layers..
but these are original constructions – the altar that is one of many generations of altars
I get the idea – it’s all about walking through the entire entire – touching the ground. For us, the emphasis is on the archeology of this land. And the archeology is very confusing. Because it’s clear we find what we are looking for. But I’ve been walking over rocks and stones for 14 kilometers all day. And I will have to add to this tomorrow….
When you study Shakespeare you learn about “The Great Chain of Being” that begins with the highest being and works down to stones. Without order – especially at the top – we’re lost. In Troilus and Cressida, Ulysses says:
O, when degree is shaked, Which is the ladder to all high designs, Then enterprise is sick! How could communities, Degrees in schools and brotherhoods in cities, Peaceful commerce from dividable shores, The primogenitive and due of birth, Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels, But by degree, stand in authentic place? Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark, what discord follows!
maybe that’s why our lives are so disrupted now. Even though we seem to be getting past Covid, we’ve got a criminal trial going on for our Crime Minister at the same time the new government hasn’t been formed. And perhaps can’t be formed. And we’ll have to try again.