As the summer approaches, the days get long, hot, and humid. Now I appreciate the cold winter days, since it’s easier to put on more clothes than to take them off. The only activity that’s easier is taking the forty-second shower – I’m now experienced. I quickly learn to bring two pails, so you collect every drop of water, and use it for rinsing. With water being so tight, we’re rationed to two showers a week, a true hardship in this heat, since there is no place or no way to cool off. I’ve now become very adept at a washcloth wipe down.
The Syrian refugees are interesting, resourceful, and break my heart, all at the same time. In the Zaatari camp, it took almost a year before they organized schools and recreational activities for all the children. At Azraq we immediately get the kids into a routine, most have not been in school for at least a year. The camp is still sterile, the fences with their barbed wire and soldiers policing, make it feel almost like a prison.
“Give it time. The people are already starting to organize themselves,” one of the aid workers from Zaatari sagely advises.
I witness a few makeshift businesses spring up. On that note, I actually add to the economy by going to a makeshift mani-pedi salon and become a frequent visitor at a makeshift coffee house where the woman, Bana, always has a good cup of Sada coffee ready and the most wonderful Maamoul with dates –my favorite cookie from my childhood.
Hamas kidnaps and kills three Israeli kids, in retaliation some Israeli kid’s torture and kill a Palestinian kid. As Conner predicted, that’s all it takes for the tinderbox in Gaza to erupt and a full-scale war to ensue. Every night in the camp we hear more heartbreaking stories. I’m on pins and needles for my family in Israel, while my heart bleeds for the poor civilians caught in the crossfire, and for those who are being used by terrorists to drum up international support. At dinner all the aid workers refrain from discussing politics, we only focus on what the UN is going to do once it’s safe for us to go in.
As my year comes to an end, a bittersweet feeling sweeps over me. I’m looking forward to getting back to my first world life and the start of medical school, but the simple life of an aid worker has captivated me. I now believe my future is eventually with an organization like Médecins Sans Frontières. I might miss and enjoy first world living, but now I know I don’t need it.
After training a few Syrians refugees to do my job, we have a tearful farewell party that includes Bana’s pastries. Conner manages to get some time off as the two of us head north to the crossing at Beit She'an in Israel. We’re planning on spending a week together at a boutique hotel on the beach in Tel Aviv. We’ll also take a day to visit my grandparents in Haifa. But first we have to get through the border crossing, a daunting process since it’s only days after the last ceasefire, and my ambiguous Palestinian or Jewish last name and work in Jordan immediately puts me in the high interrogation lane.
Finally, arriving at our Tel Aviv beach hotel, I find the cleanliness, modernity, and green trees to be welcoming to my eyes which have gotten used to the Martian landscape I’ve been living in. It takes me no time to acclimate to showers, international food, and a wild nightlife that’s in full swing. If the streets weren’t full of soldiers, I wouldn’t know that these people are in the middle of a war.
Conner and I have an amazing time. The last night in Israel, as we lay in bed, with my cheek on his chest, and his arm around me in post-coital bliss I finally bring up what’s been in the back of my mind for too long.
“What’s next for us?”
I can feel him look down at me. I look up into those beautiful navy blue eyes.
“Liv, this has been more than I ever thought. I can’t promise you anything. A month or two stateside between deployments is all you can expect.”
My insides twist as I try to smile. “You know where to find me. You know you can stay with me. We can figure something out,” I confide, with more confidence then I feel.
“I’m not the guy you can build your life around.”
I snuggle in close holding myself strong so I don’t cry. “I’ll be busy with school. We can skype, talking works.” Refusing to play the pathetic clingy girlfriend, I take a deep breath and forge on positively. “If you can plan your leave when school is out, we can travel together.”
“Yeah, the army is real good at letting us choose our leave.”
I close my eyes. I don’t want to talk about this. I want what I can’t have. The comment that I made to Rashad comes back to haunt me. Would I want Conner as much if he was always around? If we had a traditional relationship, would the two of us work?
The next morning, as Conner drives me to Ben Gurion airport, I try not to cry. I have no idea when we’ll see each other next, and what our future together holds. As he walks me to passenger control, his face becomes grim.
“I’ve been thinking about this. You’ll be in California. That’s over seven thousand miles away.”
A terrible feeling swirls around the pit of my stomach. I put my hand up in the universal sign for stop.
“No, don’t go there.”
“Liv, hear me out. You’ll be in school, I’m here. Date, see other men…”
I shake my head and place my hand over his mouth. “No, I don’t want to be with anyone else. I love you. We’ll figure it out.”
He gets a resigned look on his face as he gently removes my fingers from his lips. “There’s nothing to figure out. I’m here, you’re there. Did you ever think this would work?”
“Yes, I’m not giving up on you. Don’t give up on me.” He shakes his head. “Conner,” I plead as I hug him. Laying my head on his chest, I listen to the strong beat of his heart. I have no more words as I tell myself to stay strong, but feel tears threaten my eyes.
He pulls me off his chest by my shoulders. “Have a good trip.” I nod; we kiss sweetly with just our lips.
“I love you,” I murmur with a lot more bravado then I feel.
He nods, his strong jaw shakes for a moment. “Liv, text me when you get to your parents. But Liv, you and I … we’re living at the other end of the world. You can’t wait around for me, you must move on.”
“No, you’re worth waiting for.”
“Don’t wait for me Liv.” Then he turns and walks away. I’m left standing in the airport, alone, watching that beautiful strong man until I can’t see him anymore.