The discrimination in your writing was very clear. I could visualise it in my mind.
Easy piece to comprehend as I was reading.
Thank you

discrimination?

overlooking the Sea of Galilee / Kinneret / Lake of Gennesaret / Lake Tiberias

church of the visitation

Sorry you described the settings. Where the story is placed very clearly

mary's well and steps leading to the church of the visitation

haha...just making clear...there is underlying political discrimination in the setting of the story as well

thank you for visiting and commenting, annie

Wadi Araba Border Crossing is an international border crossing between Aqaba, Jordan and Eilat, Israel.
In February 2006, the Israelis renamed their border terminal to Yitzhak Rabin Terminal

The line through the terminal was long.

My family put all our baggages on the long inspection table where it passed through the machine and a few security hands. I saw a terminal officer come in and take position in one of the tables several feet away from us. He looked about in his mid to late thirties and had a mess of hair in dreadlocks tied to his back. He carried himself with effortless confidence that may seem like arrogance, and a self-assured stance that i thought made him tower over all the other employees as they faded into the background. He had dark olive skin, as if he was kissed by the very same sun that scorched the desert we had left behind us.

Lion of Judah came into mind when i saw him. The vision of what King David might have looked like both in his glory and triumph over his then enemies and the madness that overcame him after his indiscretion with Bathsheba.

We continued slowly down the line when i saw a female inspector insert a piece of paper in the pocket of my handbag. Being aware of the military system in place, i dared not make any protest. I was signaled by another officer to move out of the line and bring my bag to the inspection table with the officer i was observing earlier. What luck, i thought. I obediently did as ordered and walked up to him, and put my bag on his table.

He had the most incredible hazel eyes ive seen-- not that ive seen many up close and in the flesh, but those flecks of pale mint green swimming in light brown were a sight which i knew could inspire breathlessness in the right girl or woman. I gave him a tight smile as he studied me, looked at my bag and motioned me to take a seat on the far end of the room.

I left my bag and sat where i was ordered to. My family had already finished with the process and proceeded to the next station except for my mom. She gave me a look of concern and question as i shrugged my shoulders and mouthed for her to go ahead and wait for me outside. Waiting for what will happen next, i continued to observe the ordered chaos that ensued before me. Eventually, I saw the Lion of Judah bring my bag to a female co-worker, who in turn handed it to me and told me i could go. I looked into my bag and found nothing out of the ordinary and took my leave.

It had taken us about an hour and a half for everyone to be accounted for outside the terminal. Some of the members of the group were talkatively recounting what had just happened as i was not the only one to have had an incident. Random checks, said our tour manager, its something that they do frequently despite the large number of people going through. Maybe because of it, i thought. A quick head count and we were off to our new bus and guide.

That was when i first met you.

--- original unedited manuscript "Remembering Israel"

Everyone woke up early the next day. No one wanted to pass up the chance to go on the Via Dolorosa, even if that meant getting only 4 to 5 hours of sleep or less. We can nap on the bus some of them said, when asked if anyone wanted to sleep in that day.

By 430 am, the hotel lobby was littered with a few of us walking around and exploring. My sister had already gone to the bus to catch a few more minutes of sleep. I had an idea you'd be down soon and settled myself on one of the plush single sofas in the waiting area with a good vantage point of the elevators. One by one i saw people from the tour group come out and group themselves together, talking and taking pictures.

I proceeded to take out a pen and paper and began writing a letter for you. Carefully, i gave thoughtful consideration on the words i jotted down, while occasionally looking up to see who else was arriving in the lobby. I saw you come out, wearing a long-sleeved, black, red and white flannel shirt, a black nylon vest and blue jeans. It suited you.

You approached the other guests and indulged their picture frenzy. I continued to write your letter. The priest came up to me and asked what i was doing. Nothing i said, just writing stuff. I stopped as he sat down next to me and began to talk about what we would be doing that day.

Midway our conversation you came up, as if drawn in by my anticipation of you doing so. You told us that the bus was being boarded and it's best to move along. The priest stood first and left. I took my time putting pen and paper away, knowing you'd be a gentleman enough to wait for me. I got up to be met by your wry smile, as if not quite decided if it was a female thing to keep men waiting, or something else entirely. I returned your smile and moved ahead of you, without looking back.

-- original unedited manuscript "Remembering Israel"

It was almost day's end. We were on the last item of our itinerary for the day --evening boat ride in Lake Galilee. The bus stopped near the boardwalk and everyone got off. It was almost 5pm and the sun was shining, the wind was cool, and people were still out and about walking and enjoying the scene.

We were all excited to finally see a body of water again. Living in an archipelago, water was never far from our element, and the sight of Galilee after all that desert was indeed a vision to behold.

In such an open space, i noticed your stance suddenly change. You became more alert, your back more rigid as you surveyed the scene and watched us like a hawk. It was as if one of us might unsuspectingly fall prey to some concealed threat. It was that event which made me realize the kind of dangers you had been in during your military career, and that survival instinct had been deeply ingrained in you.

Many in the group eager to document this momentous locale, had readied their cameras and snapped away. A trio of young israeli men in civilian clothes, sporting an armalite each passed by and two guys from our group brave enough to approach them, asked to have their pictures taken with them. They gladly obliged with ready smiles which resulted in some memorable captured moments.

Eventually, everybody spontaneously grouped together in front of the railing and started taking selfies.They called out to everyone, motioning with their hands to join in. All the ladies, then all the men, then all together. You unsuspectingly became the official photographer for that, which i found amusing. Your just about 6-foot tall frame shifted from defense mode to unwitting cameraman.

One by one you indulged each camera handed to you, as you took your brief moment of artistic license in your new role. One of the men shouted for you to join in the group. This was followed by everybody convincing you to be part of the photo op. It was there that i saw a change in you. Your initial standoffishness evident in that bus ride from Eliat terminal turned into comfortable camaraderie. Our tour manager gladly took the cameras you had left and waved for you to join in. At first you seemed uncomfortable, but after a few more shots, i knew you had found your place with us.

-- original unedited manuscript "Remembering Israel"

Can you have a 2nd time visit tilly so that we will have a bonding to that place that i never been yet? Hehehe beautiful! j

hope i get to go back someday

Five beautiful stories and hopefully I'll be able to read some more. It has been a wonderful journey so far. Thank you for taking me there.
Hope this is not the end of it. The end of your journey to Israel.

(((Tilly))) - beautiful beautiful post. thank you. Shalom.

it's not.

thank you for sharing the journey with me

Jerusalem i thought, is an ambivalent city. On one side was jewish, on another was christian, then another was muslim, and scattered all around and in between the three were various orthodoxies. All of them collided in this massive place and held a deep sense of belongingness despite the clear lines drawn that separated each from the other. There was an underlying anxiety that anything may occur at any given moment. Maybe that added to the allure of it--that sense of heightened awareness of your surroundings.

We spent the night in a nice hotel with high ceilings, dim lights and an inviting lobby waiting area. I didn't have time to look around the facilities like i would normally do whenever i stayed in a hotel. We arrived there two hours before midnight, and were scheduled for an early call time in the morning to experience the Via Dolorosa. I sat at the edge of my bed looking out the window as my sister slept in hers. The large bay windows in our fifth floor room gave me a good view of the empty street corner far above the level where the hotel entrance was located on the opposite side of the building. The only sign of life was the yellow orange hue emitted by the streetlamp and the whirring engine sound of an occasional car that passed.

The trip was almost over and we would continue on to Egypt in 2 days time. I thought of the stories in your life that you shared with me--returning to Israel, your family, your experience as a soldier, the passion you have for your profession, and mostly your faith. I thought of the way you handled this group comprised largely of senior citizens and how you efficiently kept us all in line. I thought of the protectiveness and candor you exhibited that day we went for the evening boat ride. Most of all, i thought of the way you made me feel, with that mix of hesitancy and kindness you showed me whenever we spoke. Maybe you felt the same way about me. A kindred spirit perhaps, searching for the same things but fully knowing the limitations of that search. Or perhaps, i was just a young girl to you who held a fascination for learning and willingly became your captive audience.

I prayed that night. Silently i knew the friendship i felt would not last beyond this trip, but i wanted to hope beyond that. I prayed for what might come and what will be, and for the lessons i learn from you to remain a beautiful memory no matter where life may take me. A shallow tear fell from my eye, then i fell into a peaceful slumber.

-- original unedited manuscript "Remembering Israel"

Sea of Galilee pier and evening boat ride

Oh Jelusalem, if I ever forget thee, let my finger forget its skill on the guiter of six strings. I LOVE ISRAEL!!

Jerusalem at night

welcome to the journey, uche

may you be able to add your guitar skills here for background music