Have you ever been startled into a non-reaction? Or been so scared that your heart exploded into your throat and you forgot to breathe for an hour or two? This happened to me yesterday afternoon. The single trash can in the house had gotten full after two weeks of throwing stuff into it. Apparently when you live in a house by yourself, you don’t create very much trash. I pulled the bag out, tied it up and nimbly stepped out of the front door and into the blazing West Bank sunshine. Since 2000 there hasn’t been a door-to-door trash service in this area. Rather, there are green dumpsters scattered throughout the neighborhoods. Everyone takes their trash there and whenever they get full, a big garbage trunk empties it and takes it away.
There are many cats in this land, but few people bother feeding the cats. Most are dependent upon their hunting skills along with their abilities to smell out the tastiest remains of a human’s supper. Hence the dumpster becomes a cats equivalent to a casino’s all-you-can-eat buffet. As I approached the green dumpster I noticed three men walking toward me. I lofted the bag of garbage in the air and squinted my eyes to see if I recognized any of the men. As the bag began its descent into the depths of the dumpster, an object flew up out of the shadowy maw of the dumpster and collided with my trash bag…WHAM!!! The upcoming object, with a freshly adjusted trajectory came barreling directly at my face. I stood my ground out of petrified shock. PHOOM, in a flash leaving only impressions of tigery stripes, it was gone
It left more of a feeling than any distinct thoughts. My heart had grasped my throat in a stranglehold while my hand was left suspended in the air. The three men turned a corner and continued to walk on. A passing taxi with a laughing driver broke up my imitation of a startled statue. I turned around and began to walk back to the house. Halfway there I remembered to breathe. By the time I put the key in the lock, my heart had returned to its erratic pace. A measure of calm descended back into my life.
I came to another realization this afternoon. It really isn’t that profound, just more personal than anything else. Here it is…Being somewhat color blind is somewhat annoying. After walking in and around Palestine for nearly a year, I noticed for the first time today that the stripes on the curb are sometimes black and sometimes red. It must have been just the right angle of the sun ray to light up the reds a bit more than normal. I had just assumed they were always black. This would explain why my car was nearly towed away last week while I was walking through the fruit market.
