This is the beginning of a new and exciting chapter in my life.
You’ve probably noticed I’m now in New York.
Jaron from the future will soon be announcing his next step.
But first, Jaron from the present feels the need to properly bid farewell to Jaron of the past, and to thank him for getting me to the place I’m at right now.
At the tender age of 31, I feel so fortunate to have had such an abundance of experience, and to still be alive to tell my tales. Over the past decade, I’ve travelled to more than 60 countries and every world continent. I have witnessed four Middle East wars, one Intifadah, three revolutions, five elections, two unilateral withdrawals, countless skirmishes, protests, violent incidents, and one Arab Spring. I have snuck across two borders, been detained by secret police and regular police, survived close brushes with gun fire, Qassam rockets, Katyusha rockets, bombs, tear gas, smoke grenades, rocks, stones, bricks, and angry mobs. I survived one kidnapping attempt, a bad case of Delhi belly, and a sinking boat in Lesotho.
I kissed the ground three times.
First, the grimy black and white checkerboard tile in a Beijing KFC after a semi-legal reporting trip to North Korea.
Then, a jagged asphalt road outside Kirkuk after a horrific car accident in Kurdistan.
Finally, I smooched the soft sands on a Jaffa beach after a close encounter with a Katyusha rocket in Northern Israel.
People often ask me why I go to such places, and I can honestly say that I don't really know. But if I had to guess, I'd say that I'm on a constant search for the standard deviation from the norm. I am inspired by people who think differently, break cycles, and act with kindness towards strange Western journalists who show up in their war zones.
I will never forget the old Kurdish man who bought me a piping hot chicken spinach stew when I was hungry, wounded and broke. Or the young Egyptian teenager who screamed and defended me until he was hoarse when the police tried to detain me. Or the gentle, sweet natured Nepali lady who had never seen a Westerner before, but still let me sleep on her porch when I knocked in the middle of a starry Himalayan night.
None of these people owed me a thing, or stood to benefit, yet they extended a hand.
This happened over and over again in Israel and Palestine, which was my home for much of the past decade. The amazing thing for a nomad like me, is that it actually felt like home. It was a difficult choice to leave, but I felt that I had unturned all the stones that I needed to uncover there. The conflict continues, unfortunately, but I hope my stories there helped people see the conflict with greater depth and understanding.
I will really miss wiping warm, freshly baked pita into a bowl of hummus, extra virgin olive oil, pine nuts, all sprinkled with zaatar.
I will also miss the pioneering spirit, the complete lack of social space, and the phenomenal array of colorful curse words.
But it is the wonderful people I met that I will miss the most.
Yes, there is no shortage of bigots and extremists in that tiny area of the world. But there are also some of the most amazing, intelligent, and cool people I've ever met. I always thought to myself what a shame it was that my Israeli and Palestinian friends would probably never get a chance to meet each other. Besides the loss of life, it is the loss of human potential for synergy that is the greatest tragedy of the conflict.
Despite it all, I have not lost hope that one day Israelis and Palestinians will rise up and change the course of their tumultuous histories.
To my friends and loved ones in the Middle East and all over the world, I will miss you all !
Please give me a shout when you’re in the Big Apple !
As for my new chapter, I promise to fill you in real soon.
What I can tell you is that I will be reconnecting to my original mission when I got into this business:
To find and tell previously untold stories that will provoke change.
Stay tuned.
4 comments:
Good luck J -
Heart warming.
As a journalism student, I appreciate your recollection of the life lived in between — and indeed within — each story you have told in your career. Even in my limited time spent overseas, the people, the conversations, the lives and the reality of those that remain anonymous to most of the world have shaped the way I view my own life and the world. I have had the opportunity to visit Sderot, Israel twice since 2009. The testimonies that I have heard and now carry of the people that live within the news reports and civil unrest have changed the way I view the conflict. The moment I recognized that the conflict dealt with human lives and not mere political boundaries marked a poignant shift in my view of journalism and reconciliation. Thank you for sharing these glimpses of life lived in between the stories. As one who desires to provoke change through meaningful storytelling as well, your insight serves as a valuable reminder of the tinder that kindles the fire of the call.
This post was quite encouraging for a Journalism student, like myself. I have this fear of moving on and moving away from a place I'm so used to and attached to. However, seeing how you are stepping out and doing what you feel is right for you is a great reminder that sometimes we have to do the uncomfortable to better ourselves. I also love that you remember the people from the stories you covered, and that even though you left the Middle East, your heart still goes out to them.
You say that you hope to reconnect with your original mission from when you entered this business-- do you feel like you have strayed away from that mission? Is that why you feel like you need to come back to the States?
Thank you for sharing your passion with is. I love your original mission. I have a very similar mission as a journalist. It's encouraging to see that other journalists in the same business have a similar goal.
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