Photojournalist Carrie Devorah, whose brother Chezi was murdered by a Palestinian terrorist, shares her run-in with a Syrian Israel-hater at a Washington DC zoo:
I had no idea my venturing to DC’s Woodley Park zoo to photograph the new
tiger triplets would become a lesson on Israel’s Wall. Perspectives on
politics pop up unexpectedly in day to day life.
I was heading towards their pen when a dad pushing his strollered daughter
fell into step. Mine. Both unfamiliar with directions to the tiger pen, we
made the walk together. Within minutes I knew his life story. Married in
his 40’s; separated four months; she got pregnant, he said; the marriages
failure was her fault; she changed. His questions prodded my dating
potential. Laughing, I told him he had three years, according to dating
science, before I could consider him ready for a relationship. As I
recall, it was the last time, I laughed with him.His work in telecommunications kept him traveling to Jerusalem. East.
Actively building a network in Egypt, he entered Israel three times, “one
must deal with the enemy, too.” Of Syrian descent, his Jewish grandfather
married a local woman to fit into the Syrian culture. Thankfully he was
not a Jew. A woman he approached at Starbucks told him so. She is a rabbi.
“Never knew there are women rabbis,” he said.Silence can at times be painful but golden.
He opined on Jews, politics and the West Bank. “Jews are responsible for
the Palestinians deplorable squalor. Denied benefits. Denied work.’ His
rhetoric was so NPR, National Public Radio, I was beginning to think I
might have photographed him at anti-war events. Stunned, I looked at him.
I looked at his toddler daughter. She is the next generation of
hatemongers.“I’m Jewish,” I told him. “My brother was murdered in Israel on a bus by
terrorists 6 months ago.” “If I had known I wouldn’t have said anything,”
he apologized. “How old was he?” All of a sudden, he cared to ask. About
another dad. 7 orphans. I was uncomfortable answering his personal
questions about Chezi. There was no apologizing for honesty. “I’m glad you
said what you did.” My step lengthening efforts could not distance us. He
insisted on keeping pace. “Have you yourself seen the conditions you are
talking about?” I asked. No, but he heard it on good authority. “Do you
not think it is an individual choice to accept charity rather than
struggle for one’s own dignity and pride to make a living wage? My brother
struggled to make a living. He never screamed to a government they were
responsible for clothing, feeding, caring for him.” “Arafat may be
corrupt, maybe a little responsible for Palestinian suffering,” he
offered.At the periphery of the tiger’s enclosure, he asked how my sister-in-law
and children are doing. “Her one love is murdered, she is struggling,
their anniversary was last week and the kids father will never take them
to the zoo,” I answered thankfully swallowed by the crowd, cameras in
hand.Fighting back tears welling in my eyes, I saw them. The tiger triplets.
Safe behind a shear faced concrete wall similar to the concrete wall the
world criticizes Israel for building around it citizens. Funny how zoos
can do things, people cannot.The tiger cubs scampered and played in their tiered enclosure. At times,
mom tiger would amble to the other end, or into the moat, away from their
attention, calling out when she missed them or when they called for her.
At no time were they in danger from the lookie-loos gathered on the other
side of their protective wall. Nearby docents, a zoo’s version of guards,
were on hand, albeit clipboards not guns in hand. Cautionary? No,
pre-cautionary to make sure no one breached the tiger babies security. I
wondered how can the world not see this is Israel’s wall. Safety.
Security. Defense.The Syrian dad was waiting for me as I headed towards the Metro. I shared
my epiphany. About the zoo. Israel’s wall. And, parents teaching their
progeny to hate. The Middle East problem, I told him, is not about
religious conflict but adults teaching children to pick sides, instead of
walking the middle road. Ignorance kills. And bad people.That night, I cried as hard as I did January 29th.
Bio: Carrie Devorah is a DC based award winning investigative
photojournalist. January 29th she became part of a story. 8:38am, her
brother noted columnist Yechezkel Chezi Scotty Goldberg was one of eleven
commuters murdered in the bombing of Bus 19.
