I remember the long walk up a hill I had climbed under very different circumstances just three years earlier with a very different group of Jewish Youth. I saw the huge metal structure of a Dinosaur thing, and remembered fondly a boy who I spent a good few weeks in the hottest part of summer with, and the message he sent me before I left south Africa. Something about Pizza and how he felt in those years. Someone was shouting about Machon and I thought about another boy who I was desperate to avoid, and how all my emotions in one moment could change so drastically, and then if I was suffering from a terrible mental illness. I thought instead of how everyone's feet sounded against the ground.
A large fence stretched as far as I could see, and although we were essentially standing next to the border between two countries, the sound of construction on a new house was drowning out the historical information to back up my previous statement.
I was cold and tired, uninterested in politics.