“You are lucky to be in Palestine. You are in the Holy Land.”
Bless the man who said those words to me, as I held the key to his house in Haifa. I tried to hide my embarrassment and shame. Here I was, a privileged Canadian, who can go rambling about Palestine as she pleases, while a Palestinian – whose house is merely a half-day’s drive away – cannot even visit his own house.
Yes indeed, I am lucky – lucky to have a passport that labels me as a friend of Israel instead of a threat to the Zionist project.