A Starbucks Like This in Palestine
Greggory Moore – United States

This would be the most happening place in Palestinian Territory. Just imagine if they had a Starbucks like this there. I don't mean the coffee or the white-bordered green lettering, I mean the sitting outside like this, in safety, no chance of a rocket from a gunship. Sure, it's possible somebody might shoot you here, but it's so unlikely that no one thinks of it as a risk. People would flock there. You'd want a courtyard for a thousand, at least; it would be the world's most popular Starbucks, no doubt. And then there's the music: I hear Coltrane here, Monk, Jobim; I've heard Nick Drake, I f——g heard Modest Mouse a couple of times. They would freak out; it's a garden of paradise with the flora replaced by brown metal tables beneath umbrellas of green. There'd be a whole hipster scene. Palestinians for Peace would form and meet there, organize, recruit: Brothers, join us. They'd read poetry to each other. It would seem un-Arab to some, but most everyone would admit that things had been better all around since it opened. It's not like the kids have just up and dropped the Qur'an. Maybe we should go down there with Mahmoud one night, meet some of his new friends, try a nonfat blended iced mocha, what the hell. People would be less high-strung from having a little safe haven of muffins and tea. That's an oblique miracle God could perform: magically keep a Starbucks in Palestine safe, safe from everybody, safe for everybody, no one could be killed there, nobody even hurt. That's going too far, of course — it's not even like that in the U.S. I just get to wishing for them and I get carried away. For a moment I get caught up in "Wow!" and "What if?", just the feeling of it for them, the first time they walk in and see it and hear the music and know that it is somehow safe, seeing the cute little barista behind the counter: Hi, welcome to Starbucks, what can I get started for you today?