Are Herpes Always Painful

A moment in Ramallah, by John Berger

Fragment

A narrow path of stones, which will save the huge boulders interspersed, descends into a valley south of Ramallah. In sections winds through ancient olive groves, some of which date from Roman times. The rocky road (very hard for any vehicle) is the only means by which the Palestinians have access to the nearby town. The old asphalt road, which are forbidden now, is reserved for Israeli settlements. (...)

I come to a place where two children, one about eleven and another close to eight years, working alone in a field. The smallest full cans of water from a barrel embedded in the earth. The care with which it does, without spilling a drop, shows how precious water is. The older boy can charge the full while gently climbs to a plot planted where water some plants. Both go barefoot.

He waters

greets me and shows me proud the furrows of his plot, with several hundred plants. I recognize some tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplant. The must have planted the previous week. Are still very small and look for water. One of the plants do not recognize and he notices. Strong light, he says. "Melon? Shumaam We laughed. When he laughs his eyes fixed on me, unblinking. Both are "God knows why-living the moment. Leads me to the grooves and shows me how much watered. We stop for a moment, look around and glimpse the settlement with defensive walls and red roofs. While pointing with his chin in that direction perceive a kind mockery in his gesture, a joke you want to share his pride as water. A joke that leads into a grimace, as if suddenly we had agreed to urinate at the same time and at the same point.

Later we walk back toward the road rockier. Pick up some mint and gives me a bunch. Spicy freshness is like a stream of cold water, colder than its tin. Come to where the mule and horse. The horse without a saddle, has halter with reins but no bit or bridle. The boy wants to get a more impressive demonstration that an imaginary piss. Then jumps to the horse while his brother holds the mule and almost instantly goes to gallop bareback by the way you came. It's a horse with six legs, four owned and two belong to the rider, and the child's hands control the six. Ride with the experience of many lives. When you return strange smiles for the first time, he looks shy. (...)

If a child gave me the wild mint was seven years, it would be difficult to understand who was a member of Hamas, ready to sacrifice his life.

John Berger, England, 1926.

Photo: The so-called "Wall of Shame" in Ramallah.