After Weiss's Chicken Farm, or When We Went to Israel
in the city of Nazareth naive Americans there we were to make things better not understanding that we were the ones learning.
In an ulpan language center on top of the city near immigrants from Georgia every single day I took the bus to Lower Nazareth where Palestinians lived every single day instead of learning Good Hebrew I would sit at an olive wood store owned by a man named Agram I would sit on a low stool he sold kitschy camels I still have his camel tourists would get off the buses they were visiting Nazareth shouting LOOK AT THAT pointing to his camels, and me.