Tuesday, July 22, 2014

For Those Who Think That They Know

For Those Who Think That They Know

By Samantha Max

 

You think that you know

But you don’t

You think that you get it

That you understand

That you are the enlightened one

But you’re not

 

You think that you are Moses

Who saw the face of God

You think that you’re Muhammad

Who descended up above

But you’re not

You don’t know

You don’t get it

And I don’t get it either

But I do know

Something

 

I know the ancient stones

That glow

In the warm light

I know the sea

Blue and green

That whispers and sings

I know the sand

And the dirt

And the hurt

And the fear

And the people who go on anyway

 

I know the love

And the peace

And the safety

Despite the hate

And the war

And the danger

 

I also know

That it doesn’t all make sense

That it isn’t clear

And it’s not always right

And I certainly don’t

Always agree

But I care

And I feel

And I love

And I want

Peace

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Urgent

This is a guest post by my mother, Jill Max, who despite all the turmoil, is spending the week in Israel.

 

Tuli, my driver, greeted me with his handwritten sign and immediately launched into what I can only assume is his typical comedy routine. We walked to the van and he asked me if I spoke Hebrew. “I used to, but it’s been quite a long time,” I told him. “But this year, I am committed to learning again.” We exchanged elementary Hebrewphrases, he complemented my accent, and then I asked him how it had been all day. “More of the same,” he said, “but at least there’s less traffic in Tel Aviv!”

 

As we sped down the freeway, I sat terrified in the seat behind him, less afraid of missiles and sirens than his typically Israeli “driving while multitasking!” To my relief, he decided to put on some music, rather than watching the TV, and immediately started singing along to Foreigner’s Urgent. At this point there was nothing to do but smile nostalgically and join him. Classic 80s rock reminds me of high school, and my first trip to Israel with NFTY.  I spent six weeks exploring this glorious country. It was the beginning of a long and complicated love affair.

 

When we arrived in the business district, I asked Tuli, “So what do we do if the sirens go off while we’re driving?” He explained that it had happened last night on his way to the airport with two couples. Everyone simply pulls over, their cars are left in the middle of the street and they walk in the nearest building’s shelter. Every shelter stays open now.

 

And then I heard it: a boom, followed by a second boom, and then a siren.  Tuli pulled over, and we walked up to the closest building and into the shelter with several otherIsraelis. Everyone was on his or her cell phone, watching closely and waiting for the all-clear. We were all very calm, even joking and exchanging tips on the best incoming missile alert apps (I have red alert on my phone). In less than five minutes, we were back in the van. “How’d I do?’ I asked. “You’re a natural,” Tuli smiled.

 

When we arrived at my hotel, which sits directly on the Mediterranean Sea, I noticed all of the people in the water and playing Kadima on the beach. The Iron Dome intercepts, and we go back to singing Feels Like the First Time. I got out of the car and thanked Tuli. He went to shake my hand, and I said, “I think we need to hug this one out.” As he left, Tuli gave me a big grin and said, “Enjoy!”

 

I plan to take his advice.