Turkish city of Avanos. Dangerous to say we're from Israel
Photo: Yanetz Levy
'Israel, Lebanon - problem'
Photo: Yanetz Levy
Tourist: Why did I say we're from Israel?
How to explain Lebanon war to someone who barely speaks English?
At the heart of Turkey, in a small, secluded village located on a mountain, there's a tea house, and next to it there's a poster of a Palestinian woman preparing to hurl a stone.
Under the photo there's an anti-Israel slogan.
When my wife and I arrived at the tea house, we were already familiar with that poster. It accompanied us during our entire journey in Turkey, which started a few days before the war broke out.
On the way to the mountain (Photo: Yanetz Levy)
In fact, we heard about the outbreak of the war from a local salesman at a store in a town on the Mediterranean.
"Israel, Lebanon – problem," he told us.
"What is he talking about? It's been quiet in Lebanon for years," I was thinking to myself.
"In the past problem. Now, like peace," I explained.
"CNN – problem," he said, and pointed to the television.
I glanced at the Turkish newscast and suddenly saw familiar pictures. Later, in the town of Konya, a Sufi Islamic center and modern, lively town, we passed through a square near our motel when my wife spotted a photo exhibition on the street and said: "Let's take a look at it." Once we got closer we discovered the exhibit displays photos of Palestinian dead and wounded, Sheikh Yassin and Arafat, and the war in Iraq. A protest exhibition against Israel-the-occupier.
"Let's get out of this town," my wife said.
"Nobody can tell we're Israelis," I replied.
'Pretend to be mute'
Back at the motel, the owner reminded me the same thing my mother said: "Don't say you're from Israel. You never know, there are crazy people everywhere. Say you're from…ahhh…actually, you look Turkish."
"I don't speak Turkish," I said.
"Pretend to be a mute Turk," he thought out loud. "No, no, better yet, say you're from Spain."
"You see, even the motel owner said we shouldn't be telling people we're from Israel," my wife said.
"I don't intend to pretend," I replied.
We left Konya and continued to Capedokia. We walked around the posters and among the Turks, with news headlines, news broadcasts, and Muslim calls for prayer around us. Everywhere we went, the locals were kind to us, as if we were relatives who traveled from afar.
Still, I discovered it's dangerous to say we're from Israel, and not because some al-Qaeda member who plots a repeat of September 11 against me. Almost everyone was glad to discover where we came from, but there were those who repeated the usual sentence: "Israel, Lebanon – problem. Why? Now, try to explain to someone who knows 20 words in English why there are problems with Lebanon. I can't even explain it in Hebrew.
And then you need to say something like: "You know, Allah is one," or "Only peace." Indeed, let peace prevail already. Why do I need to travel around the world and explain to everyone why a war that I did not declare broke out?
