1994-1995 Rothberg Yearbook

“Mom, it’s impossible for me not to take the
buses here... ”
“Of course, I ’m being safe, Dad. Do you
think I stroll around the Arab quarterjust for
fun...”
“But, all of my friends have been to Cairo no
problem... ”
“Just don’t worry. I ’m 21 now, Mom... ”
If any or all o f these phrases remind you o f
conversations you’ve had w ith parents or
friends over the course o f your stay in the
Holy land, you are not alone. We all watched
the news and followed events more closely
before coming to Israel, attempting to imagine
what it would be like. And, unfortunately, as
prepared as we all may have been in our own
minds, we were wrong. N one o f us were prepared
for the bom bing o f the popular #5 bus at D izengoff
Center. Or the attack at Beit Lid killing scores o f 18,
19, and 20 year-old soldiers. None o f us were prepared
to cower in the com er o f a downtown Jerusalem bar
while soldiers chased armed terrorists through the
alleys. N one o f us expected to be so close. Back at
home, in our sheltered world o f Volvo sedans cruising
through suburbia, we are never confronted with Uzis
on the streets and hatred bubbling up through any and
every crack in the Jerusalem stone.
Yet, life goes on. This is what Israelis say. W hat else
can they say? W hat else can they do? We can leave
this place. Our short jaunt into the harsh reality of
terror can end just like that. But, in truth, it does not
end there. It lives on within us, the memory does.
Issues of vulnerability
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funeral yesterday for the victims of the Gaza bomb blast.
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The memory o f each and every teenage soldier whose
youth and innocence was uprooted by insanity. The
memory o f every kibbutznik, family man, high school
student, or m other o f four so cruelly taken from their
friends and families at the hands o f enraged lunatics
ready to see the other side. For what?
These memories go back with us along with all of
our souvenirs and worldly possessions. They take up
no suitcase space, but definitely fill somewhere else.
They fill that place with a sense o f grief, sorrow, and
most o f all, confusion. However, despite it all, like
Israelis, we cannot help but be filled with a sense of
hope as well. A sense that maybe all the pain that
envelops us right now is only an obstacle along the
road to peace. True peace.
Next time I talk to my mom, I know
what I’m going to tell her. I will say
that, despite all the ups and downs,
pain and confusion, there is no place
in the world I would feel safer. No
place that I ’d rather be. Israel.
We would like to dedicate this
space to all of those that have
died along the treacherous road
toward peace. Our thoughts
are always with them and with
th eir fa m ilies. A nd their
memories form a vital piece of
our time in Jerusalem.