AVANTI AL MONDO

“Could it be true? Jesus found me? He actually found me? And from all the places, in Uganda??? But I did not ask him to. At least, not really”, - at that moment it occurred to me that maybe Jesus does not recognize the sarcasm. All this troubling thoughts ran through my head when I was looking at the woman who was returning the gaze back to me. She was smiling and showing that I should raise my hands the same way as a woman preacher and all the congregation in the Bethel church, Kampala, Uganda. “This could be a sign”, - a little voice inside me said. “Since when do YOU believe in signs?!”, - replied the stronger, louder ME or I, or whatever I could call my more rational self at this moment. But at the same time I was looking at the poster on the wall, which stated: “PUSH: pray until something happens”. “Oh, God, has something happened?”, - at that moment I decided it was time to get out of the church. “Now. Run. Do not look back, until something else happens”, - s

It is already a month and a half when I entered the Palestinian territories, but so far I managed only to post things on facebook. I do not know why. My dream is to be a travel writer or a researcher (yes, I'm 32 and I still dream about the different future careers:), but somehow this blog stayed empty and silent for quite a while. I was in Palestine before. It was 2013 and the trip to Hebron broke my heart. This cold execution of apartheid system was something inconceivable. Al-Shuhada street - closed for Palestinians, checkpoints in the middle of the city, streets to walk for Jews and for Palestinians. It seemed as if a scene from the dystopian movie. Or thing from the past. Not now, when we talk so much about the importance of the human rights. Not now when we are so interconnected and we know the price of silence. And not by Jews, not by Jews. And yet is was there. This scene. Cold injustice. I did not know then that I would come back. I did not know then that it would