A Memory from the Past Senef Oka, Sede Boker
A group of hikers, Arabs and Jews, walk with a local guide through an evergreen forest – Lebanon. Filled with mountains and hills – the country. White laundry hangs from the clothing line. The skies are blue and the sun glistens.
In the shadow of two mountains, the hikers notice a cabin. A grey and gloomy cabin. Grey, blurry pictures begin to appear before the eyes of one of the Israeli hikers: flashbacks from the past.
He sees himself two years ago in a dusty uniform with a black blindfold over his eyes. He is hurt, injured, seated on a chair with his hands tied behind him. There are screams in Hebrew and Arabic and there are three people wearing black masks and armed with guns who are hitting him.
The screams eventually die down, and other screams can be heard. “Alon, Alon, where did you run off to??”
Barefoot, he feels the ground beneath his feet; he hears the chirping of birds and opens his eyes. A bright light flashes in his eyes Green mountains surround him, villages located on hills, and only then does he notice an entire group of hikers standing and looking at him.
One of his friends turns to him and says, “Maybe it was not such a good idea to come back here.”
Alon responds: “It was the closing of a circle for me. I didn’t know this would happen…”
His friend: “I know this is hard for you but you need to stop thinking about the past. Leave it in the past.”
Back at the Israel-Lebanon border, Alon closes his eyes. He takes off his ID tag and throws it backwards with all his might toward Lebanon.
This script is dedicated to Yonatan Cohen and his friends who were killed in the Second Lebanon War.
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