A Bus Ride in Tel Aviv

Sorry Parents. I had to. Don't have a heart attack - I'm perfectly ok.

Riding a bus in a city to go from one point to another is generally unremarkable. Waiting entry fare squeeze to back give up seat for old person watch storefronts pass exit. But this was in Israel. A nation's where history is revised daily. Just five years ago riding a public bus was considered immensely dangerous due to the frighteningly frequent bombings. Just five years ago. However, Israelis say they are much, much safer now - for now at least.

I found the immanency of danger and war to be one of the most remarkable aspects of my time in Israel. The signs of this were not always obvious. There were no sirens blaring, no news of tragedy during my trip, yet it hung in the air as the buzz of insects on long summer days. All throughout the country young soldiers (mandatory military service of 2-3 years begins at age 18) carrying M16s waited at bus stops and wandered the country side. Our trip was escorted by at least two armed guards at all times. As I climbed the stunning ascent to the ancient fortress of Masada during sunrise F-16s soared overhead. On our approach to a lusciously green canyon ravine we saw tanks maneuvering in the distance. Time and memory in this country are defined not by birthdays and anniversaries but by the beginnings and endings of war.

Israel is an immensely beautiful country, yet all throughout it were signs of a military existence constantly preparing for a rupture in the nation's ephemeral tranquility. I will not dare venture to pass judgement on the situation. All there is for me to do is sympathize with those on both sides of this horrifying conflict for all of these symbols of actual or potential violence that scar their daily routines.