The window in the house of Najah S. overlooks the fence that runs along the Syrian border and the earth-banked artillery battery adjacent to it. She lives in Majdal Shams, on the Golan Heights, and every so often the residents of this Druze village can hear shots and explosions echoing across the border. The “Shouting Hill” lies about 100 meters [330 feet] down the slope from her house. The border, the hill and her home are the three focal points of her life.

Najah, 68 years old, is a full-fledged entrepreneur. She runs a coffee shop at the center of the village, where customers stop by not only for a cup of coffee, but also to listen to her fascinating stories involving life on the border. And that isn’t limited to the geopolitical border either. It refers to the border that rips families apart, divides communities and separates generations. Actually, Najah's story is the story of the Druze living on the Golan Heights.

“My older brother, who lived here with us in the village, went to Damascus to buy a few tools for his apple plantation, just two days before the Six-Day War broke out [in 1967]. He planned to come home a few days later, but soon discovered that the border was sealed. Almost 35 years passed before I saw him again.”

Thirty-five years is a long time.