In the 10 weeks we've been here, Israel has wrapped me around her finger. She has bore into my heart and something tells me she will never leave, even if I do. Her tawdry and her beauty. Her complicated contradictions. Her affability and her brashness. Her flaws. Her angst. Her tranquility. They have become my own.
This is not everyone's Israel. It is impossible to disregard the conflict when you are trying to describe this tiny nation. So I will not ignore it. To do so would not only be naive, but also disrespectful. No matter my political persuasion or personal opinions, I can only say this is not everyone's Israel. My Israel is not my husband's Israel. My Israel is not a soldier's Israel. My Israel is not a Holocaust survivior's Israel. My Israel is not a Haredi Jew's Israel. My Israel is not a Muslim's Israel.
This is my Israel:
|My typical Israeli parking|
|My park in Tel Aviv|
|My sweet ride|
Photo credit: vosizneias.com
|My morning, mid-afternoon, evening, middle of the night headache|
Photo credit: sviva.gov.il
|My neighbor's pride|
|My neighbor's pain|
|My outdoor cafes|
|My walk to school|
|My city's resident feline population|
|My city's open door policy for furry friends|