Stronger Together


Trying to process everything with the election...decided to do a little drawing while thinking. I drew an enormous oak tree in our back yard that has lost most of its leaves. The oak is the National Tree of the United States. It is a symbol of strength, endurance, longevity, and patience. 

The results of this election are appalling. The rhetoric and ridiculous pandering to hate has made a large segment of our population (although not the majority) free to indulge their most hateful fears and thoughts. The media has been hideous in their exploitation of this hate and bitter divide to produce ratings. It has been ugly. And it will continue to be ugly. 

I thought about this as I made the drawing of the oak tree, because often in drawing, you go into it hoping for something beautiful. But when the drawing reveals that it won't be what you want, it is up to you to make something beautiful out of something ugly. It does not always work, but you are always left understanding more than when you began.


 I mourn Hillary Clinton's loss, and our loss, not as the loss of the lesser of two evils, but as uncommon brilliance, grace, and dedication being stomped under the boot of ignorance, fear, misogyny, racism, and importantly, opportunism. Whether or not Trump really believes his hateful rhetoric will come to light in the coming months, but the damage done by it is already growing. 


For gay people like myself, the LGBT community, women, Muslim Americans, African Americans, Latino Americans, immigrant Americans, the hate is a very real daily fear, not just an abstract notion.

For those that are happy about the election results, please keep this in mind as you go forward. We are your fellow citizens. I have to hope that what Clinton said in her campaign is true: That we really are stronger together. This means all of America, not just the ones we agree with.


I don't know if anything beautiful will come out of this ugliness, but I hope that we understand more about ourselves as a country after the next 4 years. Let us hope that we can be strong, endure, and be patient.

Israel: Jerusalem: The Mahane Yehuda Market


I recently returned from a two and a half week trip to Israel both with the Jewish heritage program Birthright (Taglit) and a week-long excursion in Jerusalem afterwards, on my own. My introduction to Israel and the situation there began with preparing for the trip, and trying to go in with both an open and skeptical mind. As a person who is, in general, not overly political and is not religious, it was very interesting to me to go to a state where everything, even its own existence, is inherently tied to politics and religion.

My short journey was only an introduction to a place that has thousands of years of history, coming from a myriad of cultural viewpoints that are often disputed and completely contradictory, and that are intricately tied to the mythological histories of three of the worlds largest religions. Since I can’t hope to understand more than a few drops in an ocean, I’ll do my best to describe the few windows I had into trying to see this unique place.



My week in Jerusalem began with a visit to the Mahane Yehuda Market, or shuk, where hundreds of people from all over the city cram into a tightly packed set of streets lined with over 200 stalls selling ripe, bursting pomegranates, sticky dates, cheese, halva, eggs, braided hallah, gummy candy, and practically anything else that can fit in a stall.
The Market is a jittery tapestry of shifting layers and different worlds overlapping with each other, all in the simple interest of doing some shopping. Since its creation in the late 19th century, under Ottoman rule, it has been a nexus of colliding people and cultures in Jerusalem. 

Arab and Jewish merchants sell and shout to every sect of life in Jerusalem. Orthodox Jews, secular Jews, tourists, Israeli soldiers, haredim (ultra-Orthodox), and non-Jews all bump and shove through the narrow alleys and haggle for the lowest price.
 

I came to the Market on Friday morning, before the weekly Jewish celebration of Shabbat, when the shuk is at its most crowded.

 
People come to the Market on Fridays to shop for their Friday night Shabbat meals and capitalize on the falling prices as the shopkeepers prepare to close early for the next day and a half. Hiding out in corners, tiny restaurants, and in stalls that had already closed for the holiday, I stayed still in the current as the river of people swirled past me.

 

Despite the hectic bombardment of the senses for an outsider, there is a peaceful rhythm to the way the locals move through the crowds. But in Israel, there are always reminders that things have not always been, and will not always be peaceful. The Market was the site of suicide bomber terrorist attacks in 1997 and 2002. Most patrons are Jewish, as the Arabs tend to shop in the markets of East Jerusalem. Soldiers carrying their machine guns saunter through the streets with their friends shopping for candy, a reminder to kids and parents of the fact that most youth in the country will have to serve their time in the Army.
 

For people in Jerusalem, every aspect of daily life, even grocery shopping...

 

...lays over the bristling reality of the politics and religion that are deeply embedded in the soil. But daily life moves on like the steady stream of people through the market, with a frenetic vitality and eagerness.

For more of Evan Turk's travel illustration, check out the link below: