A blood test in Jerusalem
I went to get a blood test today.
“Number 431 to station number 3”, a mechanical voice called and invited me in. Under the sign “Station 3” sat a young woman, about my age, wearing a hijab. I shivered. It’s not that I was anxious or worried, it’s just that all the current events echoed in that moment, and I thought to myself- how symbolic. I sat down.
“Maya? Good morning”. She said with a soft voice, almost whispering. “Good morning”. I answered, thinking about everything that happened. About the children that will never come back, about the pain, about the hatred. About “us” and “them”, and about the huge gap between us.
I wish these thoughts would never have appeared in my mind. I wish I was seating there and all I could see was another Israeli woman like me, instead of a symbol. I wish there were no “us” and “them”. Maybe in a different place and time we would have been friends.
“This will only hurt for a second”.
I shivered.
“Sorry”.