Action-Man, 26 June, Galilee

I am in seat 37-38 on the 10:30 bus from Jerusalem to Tiberias in Galilee. A troop of Israeli soldiers boarded the bus ahead of us and took all the window seats. The soldier next to me has arms like a hairy garment, red all over. He has a big round watch on his left hand. He is asleep and his beret is tucked in his shoulder strap. A black rifle is set between his legs and leans on his right shoulder. Twice I offered my seat to this fair lady standing in the aisle in front of me. Twice she refused.

An American girl named Ginga, an Andrea Ratzloff Kaufmann connection, met us at our hotel this morning and led us to the bus station. Plenty of Americans are in Jerusalem. I see them struggling with vendors and kids on the street. Shopkeepers flatter and click at them and coerce. I remember my feverish groping for words in Africa. I know the fear of being cheated and the hesitation to give too much ground. I know the physical encroachment. We Americans don't want to be pushed around, but we also want to be nice.

All Israel lives in a heightened terror alert perpetually." Our neighbors just don't like us," the woman in the aisle told me. There is no peace for the Jews. Meanwhile, the bus continues, soldiers debark, and Israel goes on with normal life.

Sam