The two faced sea

The sea is a constant presence in the Tel Aviv city life. From Jaffa port in the South to the mouth of the Yarkon river in the North and beyond, the beach frames the West side of the city.  Most of the big city hotels are along the waterfront, affording the guests with stunning views. As I have mentioned earlier, I hardly get to enjoy the beach or even the views as I usually don’t return in time to catch a brilliant sunset. But the sea does make its presence felt – sunset or not – whenever you catch a glimpse through the windows.

During weekends it is a happy scene with a riot of fun activities when families flock to the beach to cool off in the water. In the mornings and evenings on all days, the athletically minded make the most of the uninterrupted promenade to quietly pack in some exercise. The warm waters and the white sand offer a fun venue for an entire population to unwind and forget life’s grind. The old, the young, the healthy, the infirm, men, women – all of them turn up in good numbers to unwind and paint a picture of joy and delight. To them, the Mediterranean is that old aunt whose home provides fun, succor and recharge to anyone that enters.

Looking out over the beauty of the calm, blue waters, one would find it difficult to picture the grief and sorrow that unfolds across the sea; people dying every day in unbelievable numbers while trying to cross the Mediterranean. Populations fleeing the violence of their homelands. Man-made conflict – religious, social and economic – driving them to seek refuge elsewhere along unwelcoming yet peaceful shores. Life or the lack of it forcing them on a perilous journey that could take them away from their past and towards an uncertain future. Placing their trust and life savings on the hands of ruthless operatives and setting sail on fragile vessels. The voyage across turquoise waters that often ends in watery graves for the tormented travelers. The Mediterranean becomes the bar where people drown themselves attempting to drown their sorrows. Or looked at differently, perhaps deliverance from their sufferings?

One sea, one water but the opposite shores paint two starkly different pictures. And yet the sunsets are just as brilliant every evening. On both shores, I’m sure.