Israel, A Journey
. . . and then we saw Yossi.
He sat there on an old wooden chair, his head bowed, a khaki stocking cap askew on his head. We didn’t know if we should approach him or whether it would be best to simply let him be. If we did approach, would he shout violently or smile gently?
We stopped there, some fifty meters away on the dusty road to the strange little kingdom he had built for himself many years back. There sat an old caravan from the 70's with some 10 golden puppies milling about with such joy, completely oblivious to their surroundings.
We waved and he waved back with the same indifference of the cap on his head. We moved closer, he readjusted himself slowly in his chair, and suddenly we felt at ease and welcome. It was hard to believe that only moments earlier we were struck by uncertainty, and now unexpectedly, those feelings were vanished, gone.
We sat down . . .