There’s a certain heartache when you’re standing at the shore, with the mountains of Palestine in full view, knowing they are forbidden for you of all people to touch.

There’s a certain confusion, a mix of anger and sickness that takes over you when you try to make a call and suddenly a strange  automated response in Hebrew goes on with what seems like utter gibberish to your ears. You just wish the man on the phone could hear you so you can tell him that you’re still in Jordanian territory, regardless of what your mobile network thinks, the same mobile network that moments ago welcomed you to “Israel” with a message few minutes ago, then welcomed you back to Jordan few minutes later.

There’s a certain urge to set sail, cross that lake void of life to reach that other shore, without permission from anyone, just to make sure it is still there as a tangible reality, a land like any land in a away, yet different from them all in every other way…

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2 responses

  1. Hard to confer -maybe- for some, coming from a Chechen guy born & raised in Jordan, but u made me feel how divided (and consequently sad) I am from Palestine, it`s a small distance from the deadsea still it`s so vastly far! As if it was meant to be called (dead) for a reason!

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