I do get through and their comments are:
1. You can see. This is very good. Especially that vision has improved since first getting hit.
2. The local people are best positioned to comment on whether the edema is caused by trauma or is macular degeneration. Stay the course with Dr. visit later today.
3. Call back if you have any more questions.
Just talking to a doctor in the US makes me feel better and red splotch notwithstanding, I get a bit more sleep this morning.
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| Wed May 21 Face |
Suraida, the woman whose family built and owns the building in which the Inn is located, comes in this morning. She works at the Inn during the mornings and takes me back to the hospital for the follow up eye exam. The senior opthamologist does a thorough exam and explains that indeed there is an edema, it is caused by the blunt trauma to the eye, and it should subside over the coming weeks. I am to have another eye exam within five days and a complete check-up after six weeks, when I am back in the US. I continue to feel better and better about my situation and my fear of permanent eye damage diminishes a bit more.
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| Fauzi Azar Inn, Nazareth |
On the drive back to the Inn, Suraida points out several points of interest including the sherut stop (small taxis that shuttle between cities, in this case between Nazareth and Tel Aviv), the best humus place in town, the best falafel place, etc.
I spend most of the day inside the Inn, relaxing, unwinding, and processing all that has happened. Most of the questions floating through my head last night remain unanswered. As my personal situation becomes more solid (ie, it looks more and more likely that I will suffer minimal or no permanent damage), my thoughts come back to this community and what is best for it.
For lunch, I walk down to the main street and find the humus place that Suraida pointed out this morning. I have humus, falafel and several drinks. The restaurant is non-descript but the food is excellent. I sit at a sidewalk table and watch the world go by. The doctor told me to keep my sun glasses on to reduce strain on my eye. I would keep them on anyway to reduce the strain on local pedestrians who see this guy with a big black eye. The bruise continues to redden and spread to a wider area, now moving to the right eye as well. I beleive this is because of the broken nose bone in the area.
During my walk back to the Inn, several residents pull me aside and express their shame that this could happen in their neighborhood, and they hope the assailant will be caught and dealt with harshly in order that others in the community see that this behavior is not acceptable. One gentlemen lived in North Carolina for a few years and speaks very good English. He tells me that if I need anything, I am to call on him in his house (he points it out). Ramsey, the husband of a local shopkeeper, is a policeman and he expresses the same sentiment. I am a bit surprised to get this feeling of solidarity from the residents, but am relieved that it appears to be uniform, hence this event may not cause the community divisions I worry about.
This feeling is shortlived as another resident pulls me aside and tells me we don't need any trouble with the police, it is best to leave the police out this. I can see this is going nowhere. He says that Maoz, he and myself can sit down and work this out over coffee tomorrow morning. This strengthens my resolve to leave Nazareth early Thursday morning, else I will be lobbied by both camps and quickly find myself in a no-win situation.
An hour later, Gabby, a local resident who is doing some construction work at the Inn, comes to me and explains that the brother of the assailant is downstairs and wishes to speak with me. Whoaaaaaa. What is this???? This is straight out of a soap opera or a movie western. I try to explain to Gabby that I am very uncomfortable having a discussion with the brother of my assailant. Gabby explains that the assailant has another brother who is in jail and the brother who wants to speak with me would like to avoid having his younger brother in jail as well. As I'm trying to explain again to Gabby that this is really not a good situation, two young men come up the stairs.
What to do??? Gabby and I sit down with the two brothers (Ramsey tells me later that both of them are brothers of my assailant). I don't recall everything that was said but I believe they start by saying they are sorry for what has happened. This apology lasts thirty seconds and then we get to the meat of the discussion. They want to avoid trouble with the police. I explain that the police already know about this incident and that the hospital has filed a police report explaining the damage that was done to my face. It is too late to remove the police from this case.
"Could you identify our brother from a police lineup," they ask?
"I don't know," is my honest answer.
"My brother was drunk and did not know what he was doing."
"And I have a broken nose and was nearly made to be blind in this eye," I reply, realizing after I say the words that I put more edge on them than I should have, given the circumstances.
"What exactly happened?", they ask.
I relate as accurately as I can the events that happened, thinking all the while, I should not be doing this, where is a lawyer when you need one, I bet a lawyer would send them packing. I can't believe this conversation is taking place. I am EXTREMELY uncomfortable during this discussion. For all I know, these two guys are packing knives and if they don't like what I say, perhaps they dispose of me. One of the brothers already dispatched me almost instantly with major wounds, think what two of them could do with a little forethought and planning.
Gabby senses that the conversation is not going in a productive direction. He calls Maoz, who has maintained good relations with the local community, has a cool head and usually knows how to navigate difficult waters. I take the opportunity to excuse myself, on the pretense of getting some water. I go into the dining area and explain to Anna, the Inn manager during the afternoons, what has just happened. She is appalled. I explain my fear for my personal safety and she understands. I ask whether we can call the police and have them come here. She is about to do so when we see the two brothers leaving.
Whewwww. I breath a huge sigh of relief but am visibly shaken and remain shaken. I am wondering how safe I am in a place where a fugitive's brothers can waltz in without opposition, in fact, assisted by someone on the inside.
I talk with Gabby and try to explain my view of what just transpired. He is adamant that I am perfectly safe and all my fears are totally unjustified. I try to explain that you never know how stable people are, how they sometimes crack under pressure and when they do, results are unprectable. He does not understand my position at all. "But the brothers would dishonor me if they hurt you," Gabby says.
Realizing that Gabby cannot understand my point of view I stop the pointless discussion. It's fascinating to see the two cultures so strongly at odds, with Gabby and I each passionate about our beliefs.
Anna goes a long way to make me feel safe at the Inn. She has talked to Maoz and relates that the police detective will come talk to me between 5PM and 6PM. By 6:30 he has still not showed up. I see magnificent light on some of the old buildings and decide to make a quick photo foray, leaving my cell phone number with Anna so she can call me if the detective turns up. I walk not more than two minutes when I pass an open door and see a clutch of police officers inside. I pass by, but then wonder if perhaps the detective with whom I am to speak might be inside the small office so I return and poke my head inside.
Indeed, the detective is there and I am ushered in to sit down next to him. There are five men in the small office. In addition to the detective, there is Ramsey, who must be an undercover officer, two uniformed officers and another one like Ramsey in street clothes. I later learn that this man is not an officer at all, he is just a curious resident who saw me enter the police station and wanted to see what would happen and perhaps hear my story. I guess it is good that there is nothing which I tell the police in confidence.
They offer me some coke before they start chain smoking. The detective speaks little English. Ramsey and Mr. Street offer plenty of translation services. Sometimes all five men are jabbering at me together. Detective records my passport number, age and a few other particulars. Then he questions me about what happened, but the questions are quite narrow. Assailant's age (about 20), color of skin (brown), eyes (don't know), hair (black), height (2 inches shorter than me).
"Did I know the assailant?" I try to explain about seeing him enter the hotel upon my leaving, but they are not interested. They just want my, "No, I don't know the assailant."
After answering his questions, there are several other things that I specifically call out, the fact that two others were with the assailant prior to and during the attack, the brother's visit this afternoon, the assailant yelling into the hotel prior to attacking me. None of these make it into Detective's report.
I am then shown a page of Hebrew notes which he has taken and am asked to sign at the bottom, which I do. I wonder how this would stand up in a US court? I have way of verifying whether he captured my statement accurately. I suppose it is the same as an Arabic person traveling to the US and having to make a statement, he would have no way to verify the English report.
When I mentioned the brother's visit, Ramsey pipes up and says that they came to see him as well and he told the brothers that, "No, he had not filed a report against the assailant." I get the impression Ramsey will tell people whatever they want to hear. He tells me that after the attack, the assailant followed Ramsey, cursing, for 200 metres. I'm thinking, Ramsey is a police officer, his job is to arrest thugs. Why didn't he nab the guy when he had the chance? I have since spoken to several Israelis about this and they point out that sometimes even the police are scared for their own safety and decisions like this which we might think are wimpy, are really made out of concern for personal safety.
It's interesting to note that I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and got punched by an angry man. Bad luck for me. How will all this shake out? I don't know and frankly, as long as my wounds heal properly and I don't suffer any permanent damage, I don't care that much what happens to the man that punched me. If I'm honest, I have a preference that he be taken off the street for some time, but I am willing to abide by the collective wisdom of the community if it chooses a different option.
However, it may be that my assailant picked the wrong person to pop on the nose. I'm attending a wedding in Tel Aviv in two days. It may be that some of the 450 guests will take an interest in the outcome and apply some outside pressure. In that case, perhaps it will be my assailant who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That would be ironic.
Would I stay in Nazareth again? Absolutely! In fact, I WILL be back. I did not get a chance to see all the great sights here and there is much to see. I regard my accident as a one time event where I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nazareth is a very safe city and the Fauzi Azar Inn is the place to stay when you visit. It has a very central location, the rooms are great and I can say authoritatively that the staff are among the best anywhere. Book Now!
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