i am enough.

I know I complain about this place sometimes. About how much I want to go home and how, at times, I feel like this place is pressing me flat into the hard hot dirt, squashing the air out of my lungs and the life out of my heart, clipping my wings and weighing me down with the heaviness I can taste in the corners of my mouth and the way back of my tongue. 

But there are also times when it strikes me how beautiful it can be and how much I’m going to miss it. Like when I’m walking, by myself, through the cool night desert air, and I can’t help but feel completely alone, and completely whole. There’s something inexplicable about the solitude of the desert. I’m generally more of a redwood forested coastline sort of person, to me, that will always spell home, but there is magic in the desert.

The quiet is quieter. The sun, sharper. The rocks, harder.

To survive in the desert is to thrive.

To embrace that feeling of total isolation and insignificance in the world, and then to look up to discover that you still exist at all, is to know a completeness within yourself as solid as the concrete walls of the bomb shelter down the block.   

(Source: terrysdiary, via tiportiff)

RELEVANT

Since Friaday over 100 rockets have been fired from Gaza at the south of Israel. Major cities here have a missile defense system called the Iron Dome. It’s shot down about 40 of them, only using the expensive (~$53k/rocket) defense system when rockets are in trajectory to hit urban centers. Yesterday there was a malfunction and 2 rockets hit the city I live in; one a parked car in my old neighborhood, and the other an empty school (schools have been closed for a few days now). There have been minimal injuries and property damage.

This side has sirens and missile defense and bomb shelters. In the city I live in the sirens give us a full 60 seconds advanced warning to take cover. 60 seconds is a long time, even in the middle of the night when you need to wake up & find pants.

It’s easy to feel anxious and upset at the barrage of rockets headed in the approximate direction of my head. 

What’s not easy is the associated sadness of knowing what’s happening on the other side. 

I live on the side that has all of the power, literally and figuratively. 

21 people have been killed on the other side, including children on their way to school. Many more have been injured.

Supposedly this particular “flare up” started because the IDF took out several top Palestinian resistance leaders. 

Supposedly those are the targets of the IAF, followed by persons firing off rockets into the south of Israel. 

But when population is dense, and there are no warning sirens, and children are walking to school, there are bound to be innocent “casualties.” (I hate that word; casualties…like any person’s death should be thought of as something “casual”)

The situation here is so FUBAR. 

I don’t even know how to begin articulating a perspective.

I do know that feeling guilty for feeling scared is difficult emotional ground to navigate. 

one more year. one. more. year.

Dear Students,

As you may know, the university sent out an announcement last week advising that a pick-up point for security kits has been established at the university. Some of you asked if this applied to our students. I wrote to both the the university security department and to the university’s Director-General seeking guidance, and I paraphrase below the reply I received:

The pick-up points are to allow citizens to upgrade the security kits they’ve had since the 1990 Gulf War. Originally, the old kits were picked up from peoples’ homes but the Home Front has now returned to the method of centralized pick-up points. This is not an emergency, nor it is hasty organization in preparations for expected security events. The distribution is being done for all citizens and the Home Front is doing it by region as they only have kits for 60% of the country’s population. The Home Front, at this point has no plan to supply kits to non-residents and tourists, but if the security situation changes, they will find a solution for this population.

We will of course update you accordingly.

The Banality of Evil

“Charity is no excuse for justice withheld.” - St. Augustine

jesuisperdu:

nico krijno

sometimes i feel like i might die. 

like the ache in my heart just might squeeze the life right out of me. 

i’m not unhappy here, in fact, in a lot of ways, i’m happier than i’ve been in a long time…perhaps ever. 

but it’s not easy. and sometimes, i just want it to be over. 

i have done, and seen, and heard, and felt, amazing things. inspiring, motivating, rejuvenating things. horrific, maddening, saddening things. beautiful things. ugly things. mysterious indescribable things. 

i am glad i came here. and that i am here. and that this experience is a part of me now - and a part of who i will one day become. i am glad. 

but having my feet on two different continents gets exhausting. and israel or palestine or the middle east or the desert or disneyland, gets exhausting too. and med school gets exhausting. and anticipation of the unknown gets exhausting. and sirens get exhausting. and missing people and things and ideas gets exhausting. 

and my thighs burn from doing the splits across the world. and when my niece asks me if i can maybe stay another day or come for christmas morning or spend the night and i have to say no, no my love, i can’t - it breaks my fucking heart. shatters it to pieces. sharp little shards like the pieces of the vase my brother made for me, (blew out of molten glass, and mailed to me across the globe), after my cats, my fucking cats, knocked it off the bookcase. 

and while i no longer yearn for a yesterday or a once was, i do miss how wonderful that felt. i miss being in love so completely that there was nothing i was more certain of in the world. a love so strong that i knew, not thought, but knew that i was invincible. that i could do and be anything. that all i had to do was try.

not that it was easy. i had to work hard. but working hard when you have confidence in yourself and the pursuit of your dreams, when you are backed by love and support and encouragement, well it’s like running a race when you’ve trained brilliantly and you’re in the best shape of your life; it’s still hard, hills still suck to get up, but it’s fun too, and rewarding. 

i am still breathing though. 

and running. 

and starting to believe again, that i might just get there in the end, and that maybe the crest of the hill isn’t so far off anyhow.

Palestinian women and girls from the West Bank at the beach in Tel Aviv, after a group of Israeli women snuck them into the country for a daylong excursion. Most of the Palestinian women had never seen the ocean before, because they live in a part of the West Bank that is landlocked. Skittish at first, then wide-eyed with delight, they waded into the Mediterranean, smiling, splashing and then joining hands, getting knocked over by the waves, throwing back their heads and ultimately laughing with joy. Read more here.

<3

(via caraobrien)

When I first moved here I immediately looked for critical mass rides and a hash group. I’ve been getting emails for the holy land hashers but have yet to join a run, mostly due to logistics. (also because I’m weirdly shy about some things sometimes)

critical mass on the other hand has proved ever elusive…until now…

after a 4 year hiatus, the campus green group has restarted monthly rides and i was able to join up for the second one earlier this week. they’re still quite small…hardly critical…and don’t seem to quite get the point, cautiously making way for cars during rides, but their hearts are in the right place and they’re enthusiastic and energetic and open for suggestions. plus we got free ice cream. yum yumm!!

May the signing on Palestinian unity in Cairo today be blessed with true nationalism, pure intentions and a long life.

onenightinpalestine:

Inshallah.