Sunday, June 15, 2008

half an hour is another world

I spent the day in Ramallah. The last time I touched my foot into the West Bank was a few years ago in Hebron- I had a bullet proof vest on and a helmet I could barely keep balanced on my head.
Today, I went for different reasons. I've been helping a friend with a documentary proposal and we went for some interviewing. The subjects were former Fatah supporters who have been displaced in Ramallah. Their missing limbs were the book cover of a long story of what happened a year ago- when Hamas took over Gaza. And although there were some older faces in the large group of men living underneath one roof, the majority were young men, barely into their adulthood and already confined to a wheelchair or a low-grade fake limb.
On my way back into West Jerusalem, I am reminded how our biggest fortune is the country we're born into. Having a blue passport with a golden bald eagle embossed on the cover enables me to move across the world and keep my belly full and my hands busy. These guys are stuck in this house, with minimal food, and due to political unrest- unable to see their families who are in Gaza, only an hour away. I come home, into my sweet smelling house, with my bicycle chained outside and even when i'm searching for work- i'm busy all day. These men are confined with no skills to keep them busy in their new home.
Today gave me a lot of food for thought.


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