As I have mentioned many times, living in
Israel means living in a complex and unpredictable reality. Sometimes this has
a positive connotation, meeting eccentric people and having unique experiences that
can only be visible in a place where so many cultures and narratives collide. Other
times, however, the connotation is one of shock, sorrow, and fear. This,
unfortunately, has been the case since last Friday afternoon, when a shooter
attacked innocent civilians and killed two at a bar on Dizengoff Street in Tel
Aviv.
For those who know Tel Aviv, you know that
Dizengoff Street is one of the most lively and exciting areas of the city. It
has some of the best shopping, restaurants, and bars in the city, and it is one
of the best places to see the trendy nightlife and youthful spirit that gives
Tel Aviv its infallible reputation worldwide. I know this area very well, and I
have gone there many times during my time on Yahel to explore and have a fun
time with friends. I was most recently there Wednesday night, when I took
visiting family friends to an excellent seafood restaurant near the corner of
Dizengoff and Gordon Street. Little did I know that two days later, right next
to where I sat and enjoyed a nice meal would be the site of tremendous terror
and despair.
I could not help but think that I could have
been a victim of this shooting if I chose to go out on Friday instead of
Wednesday, or if the shooter decided to proceed with the attack on Wednesday
instead of Friday. At the same time, I
had many friends who were staying in Tel Aviv for New Year's Eve, and were only
a couple of blocks away from the shooting. What would have happened if they
decided to enjoy a drink on Dizengoff as part of their New Year's celebration
and happened to cross paths with this killer? It turns out they were all
perfectly safe, but we had no way of knowing until they texted us saying they
were out of harm's way. In a small country like Israel, when something this
severe happens, it is likely you know someone who was affected, and it is
essential to know that everyone close to these incidents is secure.
It is a feeling like no other to know that a
place you feel the most comfortable and care-free in one day can turn into the
most insecure and deadly place the next day. My heart is filled with sorrow for
the victims of this tragedy. I also feel much fear, knowing that a place I
spend a lot of time in can easily become a center of terror. However, my
dominant emotions right now are anger and frustration. I am angry at how unfair
it is, that the people of Israel cannot perform the most leisurely activities
without the threat of being murdered by a lunatic. I am frustrated that during
the course of the current wave of terrorism in Israel, I have not been able to
go anywhere in the country without fearing a possible terror attack, which
makes me much more reluctant to be independent and go to places I would
normally go to without question. No one should feel afraid to go through their
daily routines and do the things they are passionate about. For this reason, I
strongly empathize with all Israelis going through this turmoil, and I am
strongly committed to working toward a viable solution that allows Israelis and
Palestinians to coexist peacefully and maintain normal and relaxed lives.
This was not the first time in my life I have
felt insecure due to terrorism. This incident brought to mind many shootings in
the US in public spaces such as houses of worship and movie theatres, which
have greatly increased my anxiety and vulnerability when going to such places. I
have, of course, also been largely affected by the numerous stabbing and
shooting attacks that have occurred in Israel throughout my time here. However,
this shooting resonated with me much more significantly than similar attacks
have before. With the attack occurring in the exact location I was at just two
days before, I couldn't help but insert myself into that context, and even
think of myself as a victim. In my mind, that killer was after me and all
others who would have been at that bar enjoying drinks and the company of
friends. In my mind, I could have easily been killed that day, and if this
violent trend continues, any next day I spend at a bar or restaurant could be
my last.
Though at any other time I would be
undoubtedly willing to spend a night in Tel Aviv, knowing the shooter had not
yet been caught understandably made me very concerned for my safety. Therefore,
when I was invited to go out for dinner Saturday night in Tel Aviv with some
family friends, I had no idea what to do. On one hand, I was excited to try a
new restaurant and get a taste of home, especially with one close family friend
who I had not seen in a while. On the other hand, with suspicions that the
killer was still in the area and the realization that I would need to travel
alone to reach my location, I was so scared of the possibility of something
happening, and I knew that being alone would make me much more vulnerable. As with other instances when I have planned to
travel to places in Israel soon after attacks were committed in those locations,
this was not an easy decision to make. Very confused and emotional, I eagerly
sought the advice of my parents, who had negative predictions of the safety
conditions in the city but told me I needed to look at what others in the area
were doing and decide for myself what the best course of action would be.
Ultimately, after hearing that my family
friends would be able to transport me to and from Lod, I decided it would be
best for me to proceed with my plans in Tel Aviv. I understood the security
threat I was under with a killer still on the loose, and I recognized the importance
of protecting my life over less important priorities such as a random night
out. However, I also felt an obligation to prove to myself and others that this
is the same Tel Aviv that existed before the attack, and at its essence it is
not a place that should be associated with disaster and terror. I am always
profoundly moved by the resilience of Israelis following terror attacks, and
this has taught me something very important: If Israelis gave into fear every
time Israel was attacked, no Israelis would ever leave their homes, and the
fun, dynamic public sphere Israel has created would be nonexistent. In short,
life is precious and worth preserving, but it is also worth actively living,
especially in the aftermath of terrorism.
I have attempted to follow this message many
times throughout my time in Israel, even in tough situations when others were
more reluctant. One such situation was on Christmas, a day when there are many
celebrations among Israel's Arab Christian population. As one who has grown up
in a society that glorifies Christmas and has never missed a Christmas
celebration, I thought it be meaningful to observe the holiday this year in a
place with significant sites pertaining to the life of Jesus. However, when
talking to friends and family about where to go, most of them thought it was
risky and unpredictable to go to a largely Arab area at this time. So, just
like with my Tel Aviv dilemma, I knew that I would need to trust my instincts
and make a rational decision on my own. Knowing that there had been incidents
in Bethlehem and Jerusalem soon before, I decided that Nazareth would be the
safest option for me. Even though no one was going to go with me, which I knew
would make more vulnerable, I decided that it would be worthwhile to go on a
short afternoon trip to Nazareth to see the major sights and observe the
holiday.
Even after all the uncertainty I had about
traveling to an Arab city in the midst of such an unpredictable time, I realized
from the moment I entered Nazareth that I was about to have a very meaningful
experience. I have always been into learning about different religions, and since
the semester I spent in Jerusalem I have become very committed to exploring
important religious sites. I knew that Nazareth, a place where Jesus lived for
much of his life, would be the perfect place to connect to Christianity's early
history and continue my exploration of Israel's overall religious significance.
My journey started soon after my arrival when a bus dropped me off right next
to the Basilica of the Annunciation, a massive complex under which Catholics
believe the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and said she would give birth to the
son of God. While walking around the city and learning about the main sites,
including numerous churches from the time of Jesus, I learned that there is
also a Greek Orthodox church that connects itself to the Annunciation, and that
story conveys that the angel Gabriel confronted Mary at a well instead of a
cave. I, of course, needed to walk the extra half hour to see this church,
which was very small but was connected to a large plaza with a big Christmas
tree decorated beautifully for the holiday. I found this debate to be very
interesting because it shows the extent of diversity within Christian theology and
how different Christian sects choose to depict their sites and the stories
connected to them.
Additionally, I was very surprised to see that
though it was one of the most important days for Christians in one of their
most important cities, not many people were actually there. While walking
around Nazareth's beautiful churches and discovering their stories, I only saw
a handful of tourists witnessing these sites alongside me. My assumption is
that similar to my concerned family and friends, many people thought it was too
risky to go to Nazareth, even with the extra meaning that comes with being
there on Christmas. Though I think everyone is entitled to their concerns, I
have to say from being in Nazareth in that moment, this feeling of worry seemed
like the farthest thing from the truth. Even when I was walking alone through Nazareth's
large outdoor market and crowded streets, I felt just as safe as I would
walking in any other part of Israel. Though I got nervous whenever I was spoken
to in Arabic and was unable to respond, I was mostly able to communicate in
English or Hebrew and I was comforted seeing both languages on the street signs
and on shops and restaurants along the roads. I understand why people feel
insecure when traveling to such areas at this time, but I think it's important
for people to think rationally and realize that not all Arab areas are
dangerous, and taking a leap of faith and going to one can provide you with a
very meaningful and beneficial experience. In this regard, I learned that a big
part of actively living life is taking chances that in the long run could allow
for significant benefits, in terms of experience and perspective.
The Catholic Basilica of the Annunciation |
Remains of the ancient village of Nazareth |
The cave where Catholics believe the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary |
Greek Orthodox Church of the Annunciation |
A wishing well in the Church of the Annunciation |
The well where the Greek Orthodox believe the Annunciation occurred |
Mary's Well Square |
The Synagogue Church, a former synagogue where Jesus presumably preached |
Christ Church, an Anglican church in the city center |
In the midst of the unpredictable and
concerning nature of the current wave of terrorism, I believe my work with
Yahel is more relevant than ever. In order to restore calm and security to the
people of Israel, we need to come to a permanent end to the Israeli-Palestinian
conflict and establish a lasting peace between Jews and Arabs. One way to do
this is by creating ties between Jewish and Arab communities through working
toward common goals and discussions about the topics that connect them. This is
exactly what I have started doing every week with Juzur, an organization that
seeks to strengthen Lod's Arab population and provide them with increased
opportunities in areas such as education and employment. Every Sunday night, my
group has started to join together with a group of bright, bubbly, charismatic,
funny, and goal-oriented Arab university students to discuss our common
interests and projects we can collaborate on to improve conditions in Lod. From
our interactions, I have found these young Arabs to be some of the most
interesting and relatable people I have met throughout my time on Yahel. Not
only do we share many common interests such as movies, foods, and television
shows, but we also share common goals of equal opportunity and lasting
stability within our communities. If more people were to have experiences like
what I have with these Arabs, they would know that peace is not only possible
but it can also be durable if we take the time to truly understand the bonds
that we share.
A group shot of us during our first meeting with Juzur |
The situation in Israel can often seem dire, especially when contemplating recent events like the shooting in Tel Aviv. However, it is important to know that life goes on in spite of terror, and no attack can prevent committed Jews and Arabs from reaching the durable peace both sides deserve. Living in Israel has taught me to value life, but through living it to the fullest by stepping out of my comfort zone and accepting new experiences I can benefit from tremendously. Life is precious...but so is living.
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