Every day for the past couple of days at the hospital, our professor would give us around a half-hour break from our clinical nutrition training. Hospitals are already tough, so imagine that during fasting. Today was no exception, and as I sat outside of the hospital with two friends, an Israeli police car pulled up in front of the hospital’s emergency room.
The car looked like a human-sized toy. Sure. All things human-sized look like toys, but this vehicle had a different feel to it. It appeared to be brand new or perhaps it was washed really well. Painted white with a stripe of green and gold/black letters written in Hebrew on the doors. The windows were sheilded, and three IOF soldiers were sitting inside.
The soldier in the front passenger seat got out of the car in full gear and stepped into the emergency room.
I don’t know why or what happened, but all I know is the a few minutes later, my friend read online the news of the shooting and injury of an 18 year-old boy named Yaser al-Tarawah in front of the Damascus gate after he allegdly stabbed a soldier.
On our way back home, everything seemed to be “normal.” Traffic was everywhere. People were everywhere, and we slowly blended into the crowd, walking through a city where police cars don’t neccessarily shout “safety!”.