Someone Drops the I-Bomb

Route: From Beit HaArava jct to Metzukei Dragot (Dragot cliffs)
Distance: 26 km / 16 miles
Time Waited: 10 minutes

The Story: My foodless co-travelers didn't take this ride - I think they were first trying to locate nosh. The driver was a student in Jerusalem but not, as I originally assumed at Hebrew University. He was completing and re-doing matriculation exams, so that he could do a year of preparatory studies and then, hopefully, be accepted to the university. Yes, the system lacks many of the California system's charms.

While I generally feel extremely cool for taking 2 years of Turkish, the driver put my Turkish brownie-points to shame. He's a heir to some branch of the Turkish royal family, which was banished to the corners of the earth some point. One ended up in this neck of the Ottoman Empire (although by this point, it may have become the British Mandate of Palestine), where his family has lived every since. He doesn't speak Turkish or identify as a Turk, and yet apparently his unchanged surname was a dead giveaway when he visited Turkey last year. And although it happened at least 3 generations ago, the Turks at border control still hold harsh feelings. So, from now on, he must coordinate with the Turkish police whenever he wishes to visit. Judge for yourselves.

Mid-way into my explanation of why I find Turkey so interesting, he turned the topic of conversation eastward, to Iran. He believed in taking action against Iran, since nobody else seems to be willing, comparing the situation to Osirak. I said that if anyone takes action against Iran, it'll be an unidentified pilot, carrying no papers, flying a previously unknown airplane and using a one-in-a-kind missile - all to preclude identification and blame. The driver seemed to believe Israel should either recruit (or open the door to) volunteers willing to become, essentially, kamikaze pilots. I strongly disagreed, reasoning that something in the Jewish/Western psyche makes this scenario impossible.