麻豆传媒AV

Life recently took me thousands of kilometres away from Estevan for an amazing adventure. After hours in the air (which was by design and not because of any complications) I arrived at the land of milk and honey.

This metaphor is sometimes used to describe the U.S., as generations of immigrants (especially more religious people) saw North America as a fabled land of milk and honey, where they hoped to grow a new world and a new society free of the evils and sins of the old countries. But as you may have guessed I went way farther than the States and ended up on the Biblical "land flowing with milk and honey" – in Israel.

I had visited it twice before, and yet every time I go to the promised land, over and over again it amazes me with its uniqueness. Located in Africa, it looks like a blooming oasis and is the only country that today has more trees than 50 years ago.

It has the Dead Sea which is the lowest point on Earth, where not only the level of water is below the sea level, but the planes patrolling the border with Jordan fly "underwater". And of course, it's so dense that you can only float on top of it.

Israel is as different as any other place I've visited, as it is connected and important to millions of people all around the world. Almost 30 times smaller than Saskatchewan, this country has so much history that a lifetime is not enough to touch even a tenth of it. It has the most museums per capita in the world, and with its historical value, I'd say the entire country is the museum of humankind.

Its contemporary history, built on repatriation and permanent resistance, makes the country even more fascinating. It's also the only liberal democracy in the Middle East.

Israeli history is long, but the contemporary state is young and progressive. It pays a lot of attention to preserving the past, but it is also focused on development and is one of the most technologically advanced countries in the world.

But another thing that stands out in the Jewish state is its military system, which caught my attention even more during my visit this time.

I've always known that Israel has a strong army to maintain their position in the Middle East. Since it declared independence in 1948, in just over 70 years, the State of Israel has fought eight recognized wars with its neighbouring Arab states, two major Palestinian Arab uprisings (First and Second Intifada) and was a part of many other armed engagements.

Israel Defence Forces has been created as the national military for the state eight days after it was incepted. Being a small country, Israel always needed its entire population to defend their borders, so since its formation, the IDF has not just been a conscript military, but it also has had regulated conscription of women, which makes it unique among other militaries in the world.

Whenever I visited the country, one of the first impressions I had was that the state was ready to defend itself any minute. Wherever I went, there were a lot of soldiers wearing uniforms and carrying guns. Battle planes flew over my head several times (locals wouldn't even look up, let alone get worried) and the state border (if I remember right, it was by Syria) was nothing similar to what Canadians are used to – it was protected by tall fortified barbwire fences and looked indeed dangerous to approach.

I definitely didn't feel comfortable being in a crowd that consisted of 10-15 per cent soldiers during my previous visits, but this time it was worse. Israelis experienced two public shootings just days before my plane landed in Tel Aviv, and the terrorism threat level went up, so the atmosphere changed, too.

My girlfriends and I were walking in the park when a guy wearing shorts, a T-shirt, flip flops and carrying a machine gun (at least that's how it looked to me) came from around the corner right at us. I think my heart paused for a few minutes as he went by us and then disappeared from our site.

We were shocked but kept on with our walk, which brought us to a small falafel place in the Old Jaffa. After the rain, the place was empty when another man wearing civilian clothes and carrying a gun came in as we were enjoying supper. This time the food got stuck in my throat as my heart was rushing out of my chest. I'm not a big fan of guns to begin with, but coming across them twice in a row in such circumstances was definitely too much. The guy ordered some food and quietly took a far table. None of us said a word. We finished supper and left.

Our heart rates returned to normal only when we made it back to the embankment. But my ears were still automatically scanning the surroundings for sounds of gunfire, when a friend who's lived in Tel-Aviv for a year now joined us and explained that what we'd encountered was normal and absolutely safe.

Apparently, when the terrorism threat level goes up, citizens that have gun permits and own guns are encouraged if not obligated to carry them. He noted that with the conscription system, most citizens serve in the army for two or three years, and a lot of attacks get interrupted by civilians.

The new information made sense and to a point normalized the situation, but after four days in Israel, I once again left thinking that life, when carrying a gun becomes a norm, is something I don't ever want to accept or experience as a norm.