Our first day in Panama, we stepped off the plane and into the synagogue, a large, beautiful building with a wrought iron gate to seal the deal. Of the sixteen of us on the trip, I, being the daughter of an Argentine immigrant, was the only one who spoke fluent Spanish and I noticed many of my traveling companions already felt out of place since every time they wanted to ask for something they needed me to translate for them.
For as long as I can remember I’ve known about the conflict between Israel and Palestine. Young and impressionable, I believed Palestine was the “bad guy” and Israel was the “good guy”, trying to return to reclaim its rightful homeland. As the years have passed, I’ve become aware that history is no one-dimensional, black/white slab, but rather a multidimensional, multicolored prism which changes in appearance depending on the light.
I was born in 1998 in Mazar-e-Sharif, Afghanistan when the Taliban controlled the country. My mother and I fled Afghanistan when I was an infant because of how dangerous it […]