In Honor of Liat

In Honor of Liat
Hebron, Palestine
2009 September 1

Today was the first day of school in Palestine. I leaned on an empty concrete gunpost to watch the teachers and students coming through the Ibrahimi Mosque checkpoint on their way to school. After a few minutes, an Israeli soldier wandered over and asked me, “Where are you from?”
“California.”
“Oh, I lived for two years in Los Angeles.” I immediately noticed his English was better than average.
I offered, “Southern California is a lot like Israel.”
“I loved the beaches and the coast.”
“My favorite is the mountains. I love to ski and hike in the high mountains around Lake Tahoe. Did you ever get there?”
“No. My favorite is Las Vegas – it is most beautiful at night.”
I asked, “What do you enjoy here in Israel?”
“Fishing.”
“Where?”
“On the beaches.”
“What is your name?”
“Odet.”

Eventually Odet asked, “How do you try to make peace in this conflict?”
“Make friends. Talk with both sides, like I am now. Watch the checkpoints. When we are here, soldiers seem to behave better, as if their grandmothers were watching. Encourage people to respect each other, to see the humanity in each other, to build friendships. And the occupation must end. Occupations are necessarily unequal, disrespectful, humiliating, inhumane. No people on earth want to be occupied.

Then I asked Odet, “What is your solution?”
“I don’t know… I want peace – I’m tired of violence. I know that 80% of the Palestinians are good people, and want peace.”
I interjected, “Just like Israelis.”
“The problem is the 20% who want to fight. We have to start with the next generation. The older generation is hopelessly violent.”
I asked, “How much violence has there been in the last four years?”
“Less – it’s been fairly quiet.”
I said, “I don’t think there have been any suicide bombings since 2006. I wish Hamas would stop the Qassam rockets – they just give Israel the excuse to continue the occupation and the violence.”

Odet replied quietly, “My girl friend was killed by a suicide bomber.”
“Oh! I’m sorry. I am so sorry… When was she killed?”
“2001.”
“Where?”
“Near Tel Aviv. She was a soldier. She was riding a bus home from her service.”
“How old was she?”
“21.”
“What was her name?”
“Liat.”
“Odet, I am so sorry. I will pray for her, and remember her.”
“Thank you…” Odet paused.
“I went through a long time of pain and struggle…
I am getting better, now, finally moving beyond it, after all these years.”