On the road to Jerusalem, I passed a young woman hitching a ride. She was smartly dressed as though heading to a meeting. She was carrying an Uzi machine gun slung from the shoulder over her blouse. Later, I saw kids, hardly older than teenagers, socialising with friends at a bar. Under their table was a jumble of automatic weapons. But what I found even more startling was that I’d stopped noticing the weapons after two days there.