I've posted before about the dangers of hitchhikers (though not limited to Israel)No, not for the people doing the hitching, but for the drivers.
As parents of teenagers in the Shomron, it's a constant battle explaining the risks of hitchhiking and setting reasonable ground rules [only from within our settlement going out, only with people they know, etc.]
Yet this past Erev Shabbat was truly the most bizarro hitchhiking experience I ever had.
My son had an "in-shabbat" in his yeshiva high school, and I drove him around 3 PM to his yeshiva. On the way back, I encountered the "tremp lachatz" (Stress Hitchiker).
This is when the hitchhiker actively guilt trip you to take them -- either by standing in the middle of the road looking rather forlorn or approaching the driver side window and asking you when you're stopped at a stop light intersection if you're going where they need to go.
Personally, I rarely cave in to such social pressure, but since it was almost Shabbat and I was in a decent mood -- when this particular hitchhiker asked me at a traffic light if I was going specifically to my settlement, I acquiesced.
The second he sat down in my car, my 6th sense went into the red zone -- something didn't seem right. I asked him his name, and he provided a Hebrew, Jewish name. Since he said he was going to my settlement, I asked him, "who did you vote for in last week's municipal election?" to see if he really was from my settlement...and he replied with a valid answer. Yet I kept looking at him strangely...something didn't click.
He understood, as if reading my mind.
A few seconds later, he looked at me and said,
"Yes, I'm a Druze Arab".
WHOA!
Now, I had heard the rumors over the years that our heterogeneous settlement was home to a rather eclectic bunch, including a small minority of non-Jews from the former Soviet Union. We all try to get along and succeed for the most part, despite secular-religious and political tensions.
Yet to come face to face with a Druze Arab, sitting in my car's passenger seat, on my way home for Shabbat, to HIS home settlement as well, was rather, unexpected.
Sensing the slightly awkward situation, he said, "I was an IDF career combat officer and tracker for 10 years," which did make the ride easier. We started exchanging stories as his life story took shape before me; he was married to an Israeli, Jewish woman, and they have a few children -- he says he has no problem with his wife raising them as Jews. I asked what language they speak at home and he replied mostly Hebrew but his children know Arabic as well.
"Do your immediate neighbors know?", I asked. He answered that he doesn't want to attract attention to himself, but some of his neighbors know.
"I try to respect everyone , especially the religious people on the settlement and refrain from ever having loud music come from our house, so as not to disturb their Shabbat....I give them the utmost respect and like them alot, and in return, they respect me."
"My daughters are just like me," he mentioned towards the end of our conversation..."their mother is Jewish and their father [me] is a Druze...my mother is Jewish, and my father is also Druze..."
"So you ARE Jewish," I countered.
"According to Judaism, yes, I'm Jewish, but according to Druze tradition, the children's religion follows the father, so I consider myself Druze...like my father."
He gave me his phone number for future reference, as I pondered this bizarre encounter.
Maybe he would join our settlement's counter terror unit?
What would annoy Euroleftists more; an Israeli Druze Arab living in a Jewish Settlement on the "Occupied" West Bank -- or him being part of our counter terrorist unit which helps protect and defend the settlement from Palestinian terrorists?
I still have to mull this one over.
Wherever I am, my blog turns towards Eretz Yisrael טובה הארץ מאד מאד
