Neshiya trip 521.
It was July 2002, and the head staffer of my teen summer program was calling my
parents to get permission for me to spend my free weekend with a friend from
Efrat.“Her friend Ma’ayan lives over the Green Line, so your daughter
will need to take a bulletproof bus,” he told my mother, who was already
stretched nearly to her breaking point by the stress of having her eldest
daughter gallivanting around Israel during the height of the second intifada.
This was over a decade ago, when phones were less smart, and the satellite
connection with America was not ideal during that conversation.