In different circumstances it would have been a beautiful evening:
Hot tea like molasses, brewed on a fire of sticks. A reckless, joyful feeling of freedom under the starlit sky.
We sat in a hilltop fortress, made of 4 shoulder-high walls of old tyres. From our vantage point we could see the lights of several villages
below us.
And that view is the reason that young men spend their nights outside on the hills in Masafer Yatta. Watching and waiting for a call saying that illegal settlers are attacking
anther family, another herd, another water tank..
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