In Palestine, the Occupation was always on our mind. It was part of our daily conversations. We breathed it; we dreamed it; we lived it. It was our daily bread. We couldn’t escape it and didn’t want to escape it. We did indulge in a concert, we appreciated tasty food at the restaurant and the company of good friends, but we always talked about Palestine; we drew parallels between the concert, the movie, the play, and the Occupation. It was always there, like the stars in the heavens that predictably appear each night. Living in Palestine, I didn’t have to walk the fine line I walk each day in
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