A fantastical one-woman journey into the land of the cedars
It all started with a pizza delivery.
A Pitta delivery, to be more exact.
Then there were the anonymous phone calls,
And then there was her.
Oh, there was also the border.
But I had to meet her.
Now how do I get there?
What if borders were just simple lines on a map? And that all we had to do in order to cross them was to walk past?
This is a story of a journey. A long, impossible, unpassable journey. About tackling barriers, whether physical, metaphorical or mental.
I’m Maya, and I was born in a place whose perception of borders is quite different, but I’m not here to talk about politics.
I’m here to pose a simple question- why can’t two people from neighbouring countries meet?
Step-free access is limited.