Boarding in about 10 minutes. Kinda nervous. First time to places where English is not the primary language. Also: someone is whistling “America the Beautiful” in the Lufthansa terminal.
“Any attempt to cloak the most extreme forms of human suffering with a view that sees in it intrinsic meaning fails to address the suffering we meet at the heart of the Shoah. Indeed, after Auschwitz we may say that it is a moral and spiritual outrage to justify anyone’s suffering, whether the most despicable human being or the Messiah himself, for some transcendent reason."— Henry Knight
Today I begin my trip in Jordan and Israel/Palestine. I think this quotation is of particular relevance to the situation in these lands.
We cannot justify anyone’s suffering.
__________________________________________
"We're now flying over Israel," the Lufthansa flight attendant announced over the loudspeaker.
"Philistine!" shouted a passenger, followed by another.
The flight attendant went on, using the occupying title again.
"Philistine!" they shouted.
No one said anything.
Soon after, one of the gentlemen turned around to comment on my rapidly wiggling foot. A refugee and resident of Amman, he told us how great a time we'd surely have. "You must see Petra!" he said. After a fairly substantial conversation for a plane ride, I typed my name into his phone so he could find me on Facebook. Everyone has been so kind.
When we arrived at the Jordan airport, we were greeted by 3 men with 3 vans who would be driving us for the next few days. We split into 3 groups and 5 of us headed to a van, following our guide. He loaded our baggage into the trunk. As he started the van, Arabic music flooded through the speakers.
"Sorry," he said, and turned it down.
"No! Please!" we insisted and enjoyed the voice, moving along an unfamiliar key with beautiful agility. The driver told us about the farming in the region-- strawberries, olives, bananas, oranges...
We pulled to a stop alongside another of our vans. The two rolled the windows down.
"I am the king!" said the other driver.
"You are a refugee!" our driver said, smiling.
"We are all refugees, my friend," was his response.
They were laughing, but it was only funny because it wasn't.
"Philistine!" shouted a passenger, followed by another.
The flight attendant went on, using the occupying title again.
"Philistine!" they shouted.
No one said anything.
Soon after, one of the gentlemen turned around to comment on my rapidly wiggling foot. A refugee and resident of Amman, he told us how great a time we'd surely have. "You must see Petra!" he said. After a fairly substantial conversation for a plane ride, I typed my name into his phone so he could find me on Facebook. Everyone has been so kind.
When we arrived at the Jordan airport, we were greeted by 3 men with 3 vans who would be driving us for the next few days. We split into 3 groups and 5 of us headed to a van, following our guide. He loaded our baggage into the trunk. As he started the van, Arabic music flooded through the speakers.
"Sorry," he said, and turned it down.
"No! Please!" we insisted and enjoyed the voice, moving along an unfamiliar key with beautiful agility. The driver told us about the farming in the region-- strawberries, olives, bananas, oranges...
We pulled to a stop alongside another of our vans. The two rolled the windows down.
"I am the king!" said the other driver.
"You are a refugee!" our driver said, smiling.
"We are all refugees, my friend," was his response.
They were laughing, but it was only funny because it wasn't.
We have arrived in Jordan and and have eaten a yummy dinner. We’ve all been up for over 24 hours, though, and it’s bedtime. Here are the handles on the dresser in our hotel room. Michelle noticed that they are spoons :)
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