I started reading a book called “Sophie’s world- the history of Western philosophy”, our relationship has grown intimate, we’ve been inseparable for the past two weeks. So it wasn’t unusual to find me holding the book on the ride to Ramallah. It wasn’t a long ride, we drove through Modi’in which supposed to shorten the distance and avoid entering Jerusalem (Entering Jerusalem today is not as it was before.). Entering Ramallah is the same ina different way. As soon as we got to the roundabout before the checkpoint i started feeling tense. My sister tried to take a picture of the Wall to post it on her snapchat, lest those who have never seen the wall witness its ugliness, i poked her and told her not to because a police patrol car stood by and from previous experience, taking picture of the wall is not recommended. Then loomed a huge red sign that said “this is land of the Palestinian Authority, Israeli citizens entrance is not allowed, and may be life-threatning” something along those lines. Two red signs now adjacently read the same content. My friend reads it out loud, and the car falls into solemn silence. No one has any comment to say, we all know the reality of the situation; we hold the Israeli blue ID, yet we are Palestinians. We are torn apart, we are divided, and our entrance to Ramallah is considered against the Israeli law. We pass fairly smoothily- no soldier stops us, i look for the green-clad soldiers, i spot them standing in one group of 5; 3 guys and 2 women. They were talking and laughing. I was fascinated. how could you? How could they “work” in a checkpoint and still talk about their life goals, bank accounts and new vines on facebook. All of them had a rifle around their body, coiled naturally. I thought of my naivity, they’re just humans who have been raised on the idea that this is their duty. Stop validating. Stop blaming. they didn’t choose this. neither did I!! After the momentary inner turmoil has passed, to mount into another one of a cynical kind. the wall appeared to us from both sides. we passed the next ugly rounabout; empty, broken-cement on the sides, and with a line of pillows that were sold by a middle aged man. Nothing more. We took a right to enter Ramallah, a big wall (not like the Separation wall, it’s like the baby Separation wall) appeared on our left. I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t say anything. my friend said “I am fascinated by humans’ capacity for adjustment” and i couldn’t agree more. The wall which i remember from 2 years ago used to hold the names of 18 names (I’ve written them down on my old notebook/journal) of martyrs who died on the checkpoint. Now the wall is covered with advertisements – قاعات افراح,مطعم, مطبعة…
this is the corruption of the mind.
I got the same feeling when I heard a song two days ago while at work. It was the Hebrew version of Zina by Babylone.
We have grown so accostumed to the inhumane life conditions that it doesn’t matter any more. we have grown used to the wall, to the soldier, to the watchtower and to the death. We have fallen to the comfort of insignificance and the unowrthiness of life. Consequently, every matter of the world from climate change, brexit, descartes and tourism become irrelevant.
Ramallah has not changed. The typical traffic, honking, cramming into other lanes. one thing has changed though, the traffic signs have smiley face on them now. Quite ironic.
I returned to reading about Berkeley, and how he claimed that nothing exists in the material world. it’s all an illusion of our senses. I got frustrated with this notion, so i put the book aside and went back to staring at the people, the streets, the buildings and the sky. The only thought that kept coming back at me no matter how much i dodged it : the absurdity of life. it’s absurd and we should laugh. As Albert Camus said that if we keep searching for happiness, we’ll never find it and if we kept trying to find meaning for life ,we’ll never live it.
I know i should keep writing more, so i can have a solid blog, or a decent rant but life is so much absurd that i quit the attempt to write it down.
انتهى.
AICHA BINT YUSIF 