Nobody is Listening
December 23, 2008 I’m standing on Sderot Yerushalayim taking pictures, looking at Jaffa again, when a woman stops me and asks, ‘why are you taking a picture of that building?’ ‘I like how it looks,’ I say. ‘It’s from the … Read More
December 23, 2008
I’m standing on Sderot Yerushalayim taking pictures, looking at Jaffa again, when a woman stops me and asks, ‘why are you taking a picture of that building?’
‘I like how it looks,’ I say. ‘It’s from the 30s and we don’t have buildings like that where I live.’
‘But why? There are many more old and beautiful buildings like that here. I can show you,’ the woman says. Leora is from Bat Yam. She tells me that she volunteers in Jaffa, helping Arab women with their Hebrew.
‘That’s nice,’ I say.
‘Yes. We are all God’s children. I give everyone respect. I don’t care who you are – Arab or Jew – I will work with everyone … if he doesn’t come to kill me, of course, then I come to kill him back.’
She points to my London-green parka. ‘You’re not cold in that?’
‘I’m ok,’ I say.
‘You know what I think?’ Leora puts one hand on my arm. ‘I think, oh my God, we live just 70 or 80 years. Oh my God, when we are young we are young, when we are old we are old. And in between, give us life.
‘We must live this 50 years that God gave us and enjoy, but nobody lets us. I told this already to the clever people but nobody is listening.’
Leora poses for a photograph. ‘You are very beautiful and very nice,’ she says. ‘You’re not Jewish, are you? You are? You light candles for Hanukah?’
She scrabbles in her bag for a scrap of paper and a pen. ‘Here is my number. We can sit and drink a coffee together. Call me – call me, whatever you need.’