Some people invited me to accompany them to a restaurant in Ramallah. I like food and was curious to see the West Bank so I accepted.
I would describe the Palestinians at dinner as cynical and more hateful than there Israeli counterparts. For example, “I hurt my back, no it wasn’t the Israelis, I was drunk and fell down the stairs…. But the Israelis built the stairs”?
Going back through the checkpoint felt like leaving prison: fences, bars, florescent lights, cameras, metal detectors, 3 revolving bar entrances, guards behind thick windows. This gave a little context to the Palestinian’s anger… I can see how the walls and checkpoints don’t foster feelings of love.
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