This time it was, as usual, different
Different time different places different people
And usual places and people it wasn’t
It was moving away from what I knew and moving towards what I am discovering

I fell in love with the white houses of Ramallah, its winding roads, its ups and downs, its sunsets, its soundtrack, those moments those thoughts those impressions

Not life-changing, but somehow defining

The sun, the garden, planting plants, looking at the sky
Windy car rides and the impression that something has changed

And then new places
Crazy places
Weird places
Unreal realities
The wall. Art. No words.
The point where your understanding ends. Hebron.
When you try to figure out what it is hat makes people do certain thigs to other human beings
When everything appears to be beyond reason
Beyond anything
Where you simply don’t understand
And you go back home with this feeling that’s split between Glad you’ve seen it with your own eyes and Something like this shouldn’t exist for you to see with your own eyes

And then, after not much more than a week, yummie food and lovely company, it’s time to go back again. But I want to be back soon. Maybe with some more words in my vocabulary. Middle East, you and me, we’re not done yet.

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