Hi All -
I'm signing in for Sonia to let you know that she's fine. She hasn't had consistent internet access, but i spoke with her yesterday and she'd like me to assure you all that there's no need to worry and she'll update the blog soon.
susie
Friday, March 7, 2008
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Long Time No Write
Well, I'm finally back online! I only have a few minutes online right now, but I intend to come back to this internet cafe later today so I can take a few hours to write a good update.
Before I start, though, I want to make a very important correction to my earlier entry about the fiasco at the Bethlehem checkpoint regarding Lulu. In that entry I mistakenly wrote that Susie flirted with the soldier, and this is what ultimately got him to let Lulu pass. I want to offer a sincere apology to Susie for this, as I was tired and in a rush when I wrote that entry and did not describe that aspect of the incident very accurately. To clarify, Susie challenged the soldier a lot, refusing to answer a lot of personal questions about where she lives. She actually turned the questions right back on him as a way to resist the invasion of privacy that is so much a part of IDF soldiers' daily interactions with Palestinians. This soldier was clearly attracted to her, and ultimately it was his attraction to her that likely influenced his decision to let us pass. However, Susie did not encourage this and would never demean herself by initiating even the hint of anything sexual with a soldier. This is an important point, because part of the occupation really is about emasculating Palestinian men and objectifying Palestinian women in various ways. Again, I hope this correction offers some clarity in light of my earlier mistake.
Another thing I want to say before continuing to update you on my trip is that, though I have clearly received some very antagonistic comments on my blog about recent posts, after careful thought I have chosen not to respond to these at this time. Because I have limited time on the internet for the remainder of my trip, I would rather spend that time writing substantive posts about the stories I am hearing and the experiences I am having than engaging in discussions about the legitimacy of Zionism and whether or not Israel is actually committing genocide and killing innocent people. However, I encourage readers to respond to those comments, as this could be a great forum for discussing important issues that are relevant to my trip blog. And, as always, I want to thank you all for reading. This trip has been very emotional for me (as you will see in my upcoming entries about the last few days), and it makes me feel really connected to others who are willing to care about Palestine when I see how many people are reading my blog (I've been using a stats counter to track the number and location of hits).
I will close this post for now, but later I'll post an entry about my adventures from the last few days.
Before I start, though, I want to make a very important correction to my earlier entry about the fiasco at the Bethlehem checkpoint regarding Lulu. In that entry I mistakenly wrote that Susie flirted with the soldier, and this is what ultimately got him to let Lulu pass. I want to offer a sincere apology to Susie for this, as I was tired and in a rush when I wrote that entry and did not describe that aspect of the incident very accurately. To clarify, Susie challenged the soldier a lot, refusing to answer a lot of personal questions about where she lives. She actually turned the questions right back on him as a way to resist the invasion of privacy that is so much a part of IDF soldiers' daily interactions with Palestinians. This soldier was clearly attracted to her, and ultimately it was his attraction to her that likely influenced his decision to let us pass. However, Susie did not encourage this and would never demean herself by initiating even the hint of anything sexual with a soldier. This is an important point, because part of the occupation really is about emasculating Palestinian men and objectifying Palestinian women in various ways. Again, I hope this correction offers some clarity in light of my earlier mistake.
Another thing I want to say before continuing to update you on my trip is that, though I have clearly received some very antagonistic comments on my blog about recent posts, after careful thought I have chosen not to respond to these at this time. Because I have limited time on the internet for the remainder of my trip, I would rather spend that time writing substantive posts about the stories I am hearing and the experiences I am having than engaging in discussions about the legitimacy of Zionism and whether or not Israel is actually committing genocide and killing innocent people. However, I encourage readers to respond to those comments, as this could be a great forum for discussing important issues that are relevant to my trip blog. And, as always, I want to thank you all for reading. This trip has been very emotional for me (as you will see in my upcoming entries about the last few days), and it makes me feel really connected to others who are willing to care about Palestine when I see how many people are reading my blog (I've been using a stats counter to track the number and location of hits).
I will close this post for now, but later I'll post an entry about my adventures from the last few days.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Will be updating soon!
I don't have good internet access right now but as soon as I do I have many stories to share. Sorry for the hiatus. Please keep checking everyday.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Information
Please note that on the righthand side of this blog I've added a bunch of websites where you can find solid news and analysis about Palestine (not usually available in the American media). I put together this list really quickly, so it is by no means extensive or complete, but I hope it'll be helpful to people who are looking for more information about Palestine and the occupation. Please feel free to offer other websites in the Comments section.
Searching for a Protest
Today I woke up really late. 9 1/2 hours of sleep is a really, really, really good thing. Especially for me.
I saw Susie for a few minutes, and she told me that all of East Jerusalem is closed due to protests about the situation in Gaza. She couldn't even go across the Jordanian border today and will have to wait until tomorrow to cross. The death toll in Gaza has now risen, I think past 100, with many of them children. Children. We build playgrounds for children so that they may play together. The IDF just kills them. As a child, I never felt afraid of death - not my own death, not the death of anyone I knew - but children in Gaza must always know that they could be killed at any time. Can you imagine being only 4 or 5 years old and knowing that one day you could be killed by shrapnel, a bullet, a rocket...? What kind of childhood is this?
The Israeli government has officially declared a holocaust - yes, they actually dared use that word - on the Palestinian people, saying that Palestinians have brought it on themselves. How can a people bring a holocaust on themselves? Were the Jews, Gypsies, and disabled people responsible for the holocaust during World War II? Would anyone ever say that they brought that on themselves?
Definition of genocide (from http://www.preventgenocide.org/genocide/officialtext.htm):
It is still so painful for me to know that there are people I care about who support Zionism and the state of Israel. I am here. I am witnessing the daily humiliation that Palestinians go through at the hands of the Israeli government. I am hearing about the mass killings of Palestinians by the IDF. And now I am talking to you who believe in this murderous state: How can you support all of this? I know you are not awful people. I know you care about other human beings. So how can you think that any of this is justified? If you only knew Palestinians, if you could only see all of this...
It is hard for me to be here and bear witness to this genocide and to think that I could possibly go back to the U.S. and be able to interact with people who support it. Though I know all the arguments Zionists use to justify the existence of the state of Israel, I can't understand how people can have such cognitive dissonance to actually beleive that any of it justifies this genocide.
So today I went searching for a protest, more specifically the protest against the IDF's killings of Palestinians in Gaza. You'd think it would be easy to find a protest, but I couldn't find one for the life of me. I walked from the Mount of Olives all the way to the Muslim Quarter of the Old City, and I walked around and around this area (with the help of a pretty crappy map out of my crappy guidebook). I couldn't find anything! I think I might have arrived too late.
But the search was interesting. I hit almost every street in the souk, eventually wandering into the Christian and Armenian Quarters. Then I gave up and decided that, instead of going to the protest, I would take pictures of Christian holy sites to send to Samer's (my husband) grandmother, Sitou Mairie. She would really appreciate that kind of thing. So I followed my map and followed my map and eventually saw a shwarma joint. I figured Sitou Mairie would want me to be well-fed, so I popped in and tried to order a shwarma sandwich in Arabic. Since my Arabic still sucks, I ended up talking with them in English, and the guy charged me the tourist price for a sandwich. As I was eating the sandwich on a bench outside, Alaa, a young man who works in the restaurant, approached me and started talking. We talked for a while, and I told him about my background, as well as what I was doing in Palestine. He and the owner apologized for charging me the tourist price and invited me in for a coffee. For the next few hours, we got lost in conversation - about Palestine, about families, about life - and they even helped me with my Arabic. The owner (I will not mention his name in this blog) told me a story about how his son was once arrested for having a pocket knife (the kind you peel oranges with). He was a child, just walking to school, when he was stopped, searched, arrested, and held in jail. In the end, Fawaz had to pay a few thousand shekels just to get him released.
Alaa, who is only 20 years old, has an Israeli ID, and this allows him more freedom than the average Palestinian. He is an amazing young man who is currently a university student and is in his second year. He has another 6 years to go before he can achieve his goal of becoming a tour guide. He speaks Arabic and Hebrew fluently, and he has been studying English as well (and he speaks some Russian, which he learned from the tourists). Once the restaurant was closed, Alaa took me all around the Old City and up to the Jerusalem Wall. He took me to the rooftops for a view of the whole thing. Wow. There is something so solid and timeless about the Old City. So many of the structures have been there for thousands of years, not like our American construction, which seems to fall apart after only decades. And Alaa is an excellent tour guide (I hope he is reading this post so that he can know how much I appreciated his help and guidance today).
Though I took pictures of Alaa and the restaurant owner for my own memories, out of respect to them I will not post them on this blog. I do not want to get them in trouble for being associated with an American who speaks out against Israel, as they are only trying to make a living with the hard work of running a business in Jerusalem.
I took the bus back to the Mount of Olives (it's almost completely uphill on the way back), and it was already dark by that time. I stopped in a souvenir shop that Susie recommended to me. I bought a few souvenirs for some of the essential folks and, again, had a wonderful conversation with a wonderful salesman. This guy is a salesman in a souvenir shop but has a degree in dentistry from Eastern Europe. Because he is Palestinian, he has to wait until the Israeli government allows him to take the certification test for dentists to be able to work here. He's been back in Jerusalem for about 2 years now and is still waiting. Again, I will not use his name or the name of the shop, as the shop is Palestinian owned and I would not want to cause anyone problems because of anything I write here.
Side note: I didn't really come to Palestine to shop, so I'm going to try to keep souvenirs to a minimum. In any case, I don't know how much time I'll have to just be a tourist. Sorry, everyone!
As I travel through Palestine, I try to imagine what life was like here before Zionists made this land into an apartheid state. I try to close my eyes and visualize the Old City of Jerusalem without all the IDF soldiers and their massive machine guns and imperial gaits, the countryside of the West Bank without the settlements and checkpoints, the day's news without photographs of dead Gazan children and the tear-stained faces of their parents. It is hard to imagine, but I will keep trying.
I saw Susie for a few minutes, and she told me that all of East Jerusalem is closed due to protests about the situation in Gaza. She couldn't even go across the Jordanian border today and will have to wait until tomorrow to cross. The death toll in Gaza has now risen, I think past 100, with many of them children. Children. We build playgrounds for children so that they may play together. The IDF just kills them. As a child, I never felt afraid of death - not my own death, not the death of anyone I knew - but children in Gaza must always know that they could be killed at any time. Can you imagine being only 4 or 5 years old and knowing that one day you could be killed by shrapnel, a bullet, a rocket...? What kind of childhood is this?
The Israeli government has officially declared a holocaust - yes, they actually dared use that word - on the Palestinian people, saying that Palestinians have brought it on themselves. How can a people bring a holocaust on themselves? Were the Jews, Gypsies, and disabled people responsible for the holocaust during World War II? Would anyone ever say that they brought that on themselves?
Definition of genocide (from http://www.preventgenocide.org/genocide/officialtext.htm):
The international legal definition of the crime of genocide is found in Articles II and III of the 1948 Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of Genocide.
"Article II: In the present Convention, genocide means any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such:
(a) Killing members of the group;
(b) Causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group;
(c) Deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part;
(d) Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group;
(e) Forcibly transferring children of the group to another group.Article III: The following acts shall be punishable:
(a) Genocide;
(b) Conspiracy to commit genocide;
(c) Direct and public incitement to commit genocide;
(d) Attempt to commit genocide;
(e) Complicity in genocide. "
It is still so painful for me to know that there are people I care about who support Zionism and the state of Israel. I am here. I am witnessing the daily humiliation that Palestinians go through at the hands of the Israeli government. I am hearing about the mass killings of Palestinians by the IDF. And now I am talking to you who believe in this murderous state: How can you support all of this? I know you are not awful people. I know you care about other human beings. So how can you think that any of this is justified? If you only knew Palestinians, if you could only see all of this...
It is hard for me to be here and bear witness to this genocide and to think that I could possibly go back to the U.S. and be able to interact with people who support it. Though I know all the arguments Zionists use to justify the existence of the state of Israel, I can't understand how people can have such cognitive dissonance to actually beleive that any of it justifies this genocide.
So today I went searching for a protest, more specifically the protest against the IDF's killings of Palestinians in Gaza. You'd think it would be easy to find a protest, but I couldn't find one for the life of me. I walked from the Mount of Olives all the way to the Muslim Quarter of the Old City, and I walked around and around this area (with the help of a pretty crappy map out of my crappy guidebook). I couldn't find anything! I think I might have arrived too late.
But the search was interesting. I hit almost every street in the souk, eventually wandering into the Christian and Armenian Quarters. Then I gave up and decided that, instead of going to the protest, I would take pictures of Christian holy sites to send to Samer's (my husband) grandmother, Sitou Mairie. She would really appreciate that kind of thing. So I followed my map and followed my map and eventually saw a shwarma joint. I figured Sitou Mairie would want me to be well-fed, so I popped in and tried to order a shwarma sandwich in Arabic. Since my Arabic still sucks, I ended up talking with them in English, and the guy charged me the tourist price for a sandwich. As I was eating the sandwich on a bench outside, Alaa, a young man who works in the restaurant, approached me and started talking. We talked for a while, and I told him about my background, as well as what I was doing in Palestine. He and the owner apologized for charging me the tourist price and invited me in for a coffee. For the next few hours, we got lost in conversation - about Palestine, about families, about life - and they even helped me with my Arabic. The owner (I will not mention his name in this blog) told me a story about how his son was once arrested for having a pocket knife (the kind you peel oranges with). He was a child, just walking to school, when he was stopped, searched, arrested, and held in jail. In the end, Fawaz had to pay a few thousand shekels just to get him released.
Alaa, who is only 20 years old, has an Israeli ID, and this allows him more freedom than the average Palestinian. He is an amazing young man who is currently a university student and is in his second year. He has another 6 years to go before he can achieve his goal of becoming a tour guide. He speaks Arabic and Hebrew fluently, and he has been studying English as well (and he speaks some Russian, which he learned from the tourists). Once the restaurant was closed, Alaa took me all around the Old City and up to the Jerusalem Wall. He took me to the rooftops for a view of the whole thing. Wow. There is something so solid and timeless about the Old City. So many of the structures have been there for thousands of years, not like our American construction, which seems to fall apart after only decades. And Alaa is an excellent tour guide (I hope he is reading this post so that he can know how much I appreciated his help and guidance today).
Though I took pictures of Alaa and the restaurant owner for my own memories, out of respect to them I will not post them on this blog. I do not want to get them in trouble for being associated with an American who speaks out against Israel, as they are only trying to make a living with the hard work of running a business in Jerusalem.
I took the bus back to the Mount of Olives (it's almost completely uphill on the way back), and it was already dark by that time. I stopped in a souvenir shop that Susie recommended to me. I bought a few souvenirs for some of the essential folks and, again, had a wonderful conversation with a wonderful salesman. This guy is a salesman in a souvenir shop but has a degree in dentistry from Eastern Europe. Because he is Palestinian, he has to wait until the Israeli government allows him to take the certification test for dentists to be able to work here. He's been back in Jerusalem for about 2 years now and is still waiting. Again, I will not use his name or the name of the shop, as the shop is Palestinian owned and I would not want to cause anyone problems because of anything I write here.
Side note: I didn't really come to Palestine to shop, so I'm going to try to keep souvenirs to a minimum. In any case, I don't know how much time I'll have to just be a tourist. Sorry, everyone!
As I travel through Palestine, I try to imagine what life was like here before Zionists made this land into an apartheid state. I try to close my eyes and visualize the Old City of Jerusalem without all the IDF soldiers and their massive machine guns and imperial gaits, the countryside of the West Bank without the settlements and checkpoints, the day's news without photographs of dead Gazan children and the tear-stained faces of their parents. It is hard to imagine, but I will keep trying.
Killing of Children in Gaza
I don't have much time right now, as I want to go down to East Jerusalem to witness and take pictures of the protests there (about the killings in Gaza), but I wanted to remind you all to check out Susie's posts in the last few days about these awful killings.
This is an unspeakable crisis. 27 people killed by the IDF in the just 48 hours! Gaza is the size of Philadelphia, with about as many people (1.5 million). Can you imagine what would happen if 27 people were killed in Philly by the government in just 48 hours?
Susie's blog is: http://pfp2008trip.blogspot.com/
She has posted a number of news stories, pictures, and links about this. Please read them.
This is an unspeakable crisis. 27 people killed by the IDF in the just 48 hours! Gaza is the size of Philadelphia, with about as many people (1.5 million). Can you imagine what would happen if 27 people were killed in Philly by the government in just 48 hours?
Susie's blog is: http://pfp2008trip.blogspot.com/
She has posted a number of news stories, pictures, and links about this. Please read them.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
A Fun Day at the Checkpoints!
First, I want to say that it's very encouraging to know that so many of you are reading this blog. I encourage you all to make comments, both to let me know what kind of information you'd like more of and to share your own reflections and feelings as you read about my perceptions of this place!
Now for the really interesting stuff. Today was wild, but I don't have tons of time to update this blog, so I'll try to be as brief as possible.
First, we started the day with me oversleeping after I had absolutely promised to Susie that I would wake up early and be ready for her whenever she called (I offered this promise to her in the most matter-of-fact voice - ha!). So poor Susie called me at 8:40 (way after I said I'd be ready) and got a sleepy Sonia apologizing profusely and offering to be ready in 10 minutes. 15 minutes later (no shower for me), I called her back and went down to meet her. Sorry, Susie. I'm a total dork!
So we were off to Bethlehem with Susie's cousin Karam and her cousin's daughter Lulu to meet with Maha (who works with Reverend Mitri) so that I could have an official introduction. On the way in, everyone has to go through a massive new checkpoint between Jerusalem and Bethlehem. This thing is like a fortress, and it's where Susie was detained for 8 hours just over a week ago. We went through the first security turnstile, where Susie, Karam, and I had to show our IDs. Since Lulu is just a child, she was allowed to go through without identification. When we got out on the other side, after going through a number of gates and passageways (did I mention that this thing is a fortress?), we encountered a moment of wonderful irony. The soldiers began blasting the Bob Marley song "Buffalo Soldier" just long enough for us to pass by. Buffalo Soldier? I mean, really, did they have to choose a song about freedom fighters? What was that supposed to mean, anyway? Ah, the blindness of Zionism! We stopped off at the office of the International Center of Bethlehem (is this the right name, Susie?), but Maha wasn't there, so we left to walk around the souk.
After stopping in a few shops and eating yummy street food - oh, how I'm a sucker for street food - we wandered off down a steep, steep hill and onto another road. There we ran right into a beauty salon, and Susie had the brilliant idea that all of us could get our hair blowdryed. I almost never treat myself to having someone else do what I could do myself (though not quite as well), so I loved the idea. All of us went in for a morning at the salon. Of course, since we were all having our hair done, we had to take a million pictures of each other. A few are below. Susie's hair looked really awesome, and so did Karam's and Lulu's. Mine looked much better when it had a few hours to chill out from all that blowdrying. The most fun part of the experience, though, was just being in the beauty salon with some kind hairdressers.
Afterwards, as we walked back up the hill, we got a call from Maha that she was back in the office, so we went back to meet her. Maha is the very composed, competent, friendly engineer who will be leading the playground installation in Bethlehem. After meeting her, I have the utmost confidence that she will do a fabulous job and that my work will be a piece of cake when it comes to that site. By the way, the Internation Center is a stunning building that is a perfectly blended mixture of new and old. The original building, which got added onto recently with a modern but simple corridor and set of offices, is actually hundreds of years old and has the feeling of a tradition Arab home in the heart of the medina. I will take pictures of the inside of the office at some point. In any case, I will be going back and forth to see Maha and to meet Reverend Mitri and the others as the playground installation gets underway.
Once Susie had introduced me to Maha, it was time to leave. No problem, right? Wrong. We went into the Bethlehem checkpoint, which, as I have said twice now, is a total fortress. I took a few pictures of the Bethlehem side and a few of the parts in between where you have to go out and then in. And I took a picture of our second fabulous moment of irony. As I was leaving the first passageway to go past the Wall (the ultimate symbol of the occupation) to the second passageway (where you get told to stay or go or where you get detained), I looked up at this side of the Wall, and the Israeli government had hung a three-story high sign that was clearly meant for tourists. It read "Peace Be With You" and was signed "Israeli Ministry of Tourism". I could only think, You've GOT to be kidding. What an obvious contradiction it is to control Palestinians' every move and then talk about peace. Ha! There's a picture of this below. Note the barbed wire and cages above, around, and in front of the sign. This is like the American government advertising their war and then wishing us all peace. Seriously.
But the worst of it was yet to come. When we got inside the next section of the checkpoint, there was a gate that only opened for three people at a time. So the green light above it would be lit, three people would go in, then the red light would go on and the gate would lock (see picture below). Susie pointed to the place where she had gotten frisked and detained. It didn't look pretty. Karam and Lulu went in with a guy in front of us, and Susie and I waited behind them. We started talking with a very friendly Palestinian tour guide, who was with a group of Europeans on tour. He and Susie were talking in Arabic, and she told him how last week she had been stopped and detained, and his response was basically, "Oh, that was you? I was there and was wondering what was holding up the line for so long!" So he turned around to his tour group to relate the story to them, only he changed the details a bit. He told them that she had been detained because she was a tourist taking photographs (she was really detained because she was a Palestinian taking photographs, and then they got suspicious of some very simple photos on the memory card of her camera - see her blog for more details). When Susie and I started to correct him, he told us in Arabic that he doesn't want to share that kind of stuff with them because being a tour guide is his livelihood and this could really alienate and scare his customers. We understood immediately and shut our mouths, but it was so sad to hear him say that. Of course, without question, I respect his decision, but I hate that that's the position he has been put in... to not even be able to tell an important truth like that without risking his livelihood.
Susie and I finally got to go through the gate, where we placed all our stuff (including the stuff in our pockets) onto the conveyor belt of an x-ray machine and then went through a metal detector. I kept setting it off for some reason, and a voice suddenly came from a speaker above me (yes, it was like being talked to by God, but a very hateful and controlling god) and told me to show my passport. I kept turning around and around, looking for a human face so I would know what direction to aim the open passport in my hand. Finally, I saw the top of a person's head through the window past the metal detector, showed him/her my passport, collected my stuff, and walked out.
We had made it to the last stop in the checkpoint, and we thought we were finally home free, but to no avail. At the last window with the turnstile that would be our official entry into Jerusalem, the soldiers stopped us. They said that all of us could go through except for Lulu, because Lulu had no identification. Susie argued that this was ridiculous, since they had let Lulu, only 14 years old, in through this very turnstile just a few hours before and since she lives in Jerusalem and we could not just leave her in Bethlehem. This argument fell on deaf ears. I started telling them that I'm a Jew and "Is this how you treat Jews and the people they travel with? Is this how you welcome American Jews to Israel?" (I was trying to use some privilege to my advantage). We were being as loud as possible so as to make it clear to all the tourists behind us exactly what was happening and so as to make it as difficult as could be for the soldiers to hold us there. Nothing worked, though. It was so ironic that Lulu was actually through the turnstile on the other side, but, with the threat of violence always looming (every soldier had a gun as long as my torso), she could do nothing but obey their order to stay there. We argued with the Captain too, but in the end Susie and Karam had to leave to try to get in touch with someone who could get hold of Lulu's ID.
I stayed with Lulu at the checkpoint, and eventually one soldier made us go back through the turnstile and be with the large group of soldiers that had congregated inside this area of the building. I argued with them some more, showing them my passport and repeating all of our previous points about the fact that Lulu had just come through this checkpoint a few hours ago without any identification and that they could just look at the footage from their many security cameras to see that this was true. Really, how hard could it be? They told me no a million more times and questioned Lulu in Arabic (she doesn't speak English or Hebrew) to see if we were lying (they did get us on one point, which was that Susie and I thought that Lulu is only 11 but really she is 14). Then, one of the original soldiers took me aside and asked me again if I was Jewish. I told him, "Yes, look at my name. That's not Jewish?" He told me that as a Jew I am not allowed to go into the West Bank without a special permit from the IDF (Israeli Defense Forces). I told him that was ridiculous and that I am an American, not an Israeli. He told me it doesn't matter, and if I am a Jew I have to have that permit. I said, "Well, then, fine, I'm not Jewish anymore. You can have my Jewishness." He said, "Ok." So crazy. (By the way, this fact about Jews needing special permits for travel to and from the West Bank was later confirmed by our friend Mohammed.)
So I went off to join Lulu, and we walked away from the soldiers. We amused ourselves as she helped me practice my written Arabic by reading all the signs around us, with fun new phrases such as "Stop here and show your identification" and "Do not enter without accompaniment". The best one had directions for how Palestinians should place their right hands on the handprint reading machine right before the turnstile. I'm developing a whole new vocabulary especially for occupation!
Finally, Susie and Karam came back but without any ID for Lulu. No one was home, and Susie couldn't get in touch with Lulu's brother Mohammed. We all just waited behind a fence outside (the inside was really cold, but outside it was sunny), and Lulu tried calling her brother. We started talking with a soldier who had some kind of higher rank than the others and spoke fluent Arabic (I think Susie mentioned that he was Druze). Susie engaged him in conversation, flirting with him a little (which was more than demeaning for her, since he was probably about 15-18 years younger than she), and this was the strategy that finally worked. They let us out, Lulu and all. Start to finish, passing through that checkpoint took us well over an hour.
But it wasn't really over yet. Just as we were getting into our car, Lulu's brother Mohammed pulled up in another car with her identification. He saw the soldier that had stopped us from moving along and said something to the extent of "Shame on you for stopping a young girl from passing." That set the soldier off, and he made Mohammed go all the way up the long walkway and give him his ID. He kept us all there for another 10 minutes or so and then walked back out and gave back Mohammed's ID. In the end, it's all about power and control and soldiers being able, on a whim, to do whatever they want to Palestinians.
Because we were so far behind, we had to send Lulu along with her brother and go back with Karam for Susie to say goodbye to some other family members. I was sad to see Karam go, because I really enjoyed her company, but inshallah I'll be able to hang out with her some more this coming week, since she's offered to go with me to Bethlehem and some other places.
Susie and I had a quick lunch in the Mount of Olives neighborhood and then went to Hebron to meet with Mohammed, who works with ANERA and will be helping me a lot with the Beit Anan playground. (Yes, this is a different Mohammed than the last two I've mentioned so far in these blogs, but you've got to understand that in the Arab world every third guy is named Mohammed. So get used to it.) We walked around a few parts of Hebron. In the Old City, Mohammed pointed out some abandoned houses that were constructed hundreds of years ago and lived in by Palestinians for generations before these families were driven out by Israelis (not sure if it was the settlers or the IDF). The architecture on these houses was amazing, but the insides were a mess. I've posted a picture below.
Mohammed was great, and not only did he show us around Hebron, he also invited us to his family's house about 30-40 minutes away. On our way to see Mohammed's family, we passed by a checkpoint. Since we were driving behind Mohammed's car, we watched him get pulled over first. The IDF soldiers made him step out of his vehicle and open the trunk for them. Then, he had to go back into his car while they searched the trunk, even picking up the carpet to see if there was anything underneath. Now, I should clarify that there is absolutely nothing suspicious looking about Mohammed except that he is a Palestinian, and, to the IDF, any Palestinian is a potential terrorist. Susie and I sat watching and talking about the scene unfolding before us, about how it is in moments like this that the IDF attempts to emasculate and dehumanize Palestinian men. I was on the verge of tears watching this person who I had already come to like and respect be treated this way. And I know it's not even close to the worst kind of treatment he could have received. We, of course, passed through the checkpoint without a problem, as they didn't know we were with him. I was driving because Susie had been feeling too tired, and I started moving very fast towards what I thought was a row of spikes facing away from me (you know the kind you see in the entrances to parking lots that are ok if you go over them the right way but will puncture your tires if you pass over them in the opposite direction). Suddenly, one of the soldiers yelled, "Stop!" and I knew right away what he was trying to tell me. I slammed on the brakes and came to an abrupt stop about a foot before running over the line of spikes. He said, "They go both ways." If I had stopped even a foot later, our two front tires would have been destroyed and we would have been totally screwed. Whew!
We continued on through some of the most
beautiful countryside I have encountered yet and finally arrived at Mohammed's family's houses. His family has owned all the land on this hillside for generations, and just a year ago they built a group of gorgeously designed houses overlooking the entire valley and with a view to die for. Better than the view, though, were his mother, aunt, cousins, siblings, neices and nephews... Everyone we met. What interesting and hospitable folks! We drank tea and Arabic coffee and talked and laughed for a few hours before Susie and I had to leave to get back to Jerusalem. It was hard to walk away from such wonderful people, but maybe I'll be able to meet some of them again, as I'll be seeing Mohammed quite a lot over the course of my stay here.
Susie and I got back to Jerusalem before 9PM, and both of us were so exhausted we just went back to our respective residences.
As a final note, I also wanted to share some general reflections that I had today. First, I think it is so hilarious every time I hear Susie explaining my mixed heritage to the people we meet. There's something about the look of surprise on their faces when they find out that I'm half Ashkanazi Jew and half Arab Muslim. And, of course, she always starts out by telling them that my mother is from Morocco. It's really cute and cool to see people processing what this all means. (It's even more fun than when I do it to people in the States!)
Second, now that I've covered considerable ground in the West Bank, I've noticed that the Israelis are very strategic in the way that they sprinkle little symbols of control throughout Palestinian land - checkpoints, settlements, outposts, etc. And above every one of these flies at least one big, blue and white Israeli flag. It's such an important visual representation of the occupation, because you'll be driving around through lush land with olive trees planted in steppes down the side of the mountains and suddenly you encounter an Israeli flag and some clear sign that this is not really Palestinian land at all, that this land is actually under Israeli control and any Palestinian who forgets it might not even live to regret it. When I see this, I think of how I've always heard farmers talk about being able to look across their land and know they've loved and cultivated it. It would be hard for a Palestinian in the West Bank to look across his land without seeing the Israeli flag cut across the sky, disrupting what was left of a beautiful view.
Thanks to everyone for making it this far in my long, long post. Hopefully, tomorrow I won't have such an eventful day!
Now for the really interesting stuff. Today was wild, but I don't have tons of time to update this blog, so I'll try to be as brief as possible.
First, we started the day with me oversleeping after I had absolutely promised to Susie that I would wake up early and be ready for her whenever she called (I offered this promise to her in the most matter-of-fact voice - ha!). So poor Susie called me at 8:40 (way after I said I'd be ready) and got a sleepy Sonia apologizing profusely and offering to be ready in 10 minutes. 15 minutes later (no shower for me), I called her back and went down to meet her. Sorry, Susie. I'm a total dork!
So we were off to Bethlehem with Susie's cousin Karam and her cousin's daughter Lulu to meet with Maha (who works with Reverend Mitri) so that I could have an official introduction. On the way in, everyone has to go through a massive new checkpoint between Jerusalem and Bethlehem. This thing is like a fortress, and it's where Susie was detained for 8 hours just over a week ago. We went through the first security turnstile, where Susie, Karam, and I had to show our IDs. Since Lulu is just a child, she was allowed to go through without identification. When we got out on the other side, after going through a number of gates and passageways (did I mention that this thing is a fortress?), we encountered a moment of wonderful irony. The soldiers began blasting the Bob Marley song "Buffalo Soldier" just long enough for us to pass by. Buffalo Soldier? I mean, really, did they have to choose a song about freedom fighters? What was that supposed to mean, anyway? Ah, the blindness of Zionism! We stopped off at the office of the International Center of Bethlehem (is this the right name, Susie?), but Maha wasn't there, so we left to walk around the souk.
After stopping in a few shops and eating yummy street food - oh, how I'm a sucker for street food - we wandered off down a steep, steep hill and onto another road. There we ran right into a beauty salon, and Susie had the brilliant idea that all of us could get our hair blowdryed. I almost never treat myself to having someone else do what I could do myself (though not quite as well), so I loved the idea. All of us went in for a morning at the salon. Of course, since we were all having our hair done, we had to take a million pictures of each other. A few are below. Susie's hair looked really awesome, and so did Karam's and Lulu's. Mine looked much better when it had a few hours to chill out from all that blowdrying. The most fun part of the experience, though, was just being in the beauty salon with some kind hairdressers.
Everyone's new do's (except mine, because the pic accidentally got deleted... I'm sorry):
Afterwards, as we walked back up the hill, we got a call from Maha that she was back in the office, so we went back to meet her. Maha is the very composed, competent, friendly engineer who will be leading the playground installation in Bethlehem. After meeting her, I have the utmost confidence that she will do a fabulous job and that my work will be a piece of cake when it comes to that site. By the way, the Internation Center is a stunning building that is a perfectly blended mixture of new and old. The original building, which got added onto recently with a modern but simple corridor and set of offices, is actually hundreds of years old and has the feeling of a tradition Arab home in the heart of the medina. I will take pictures of the inside of the office at some point. In any case, I will be going back and forth to see Maha and to meet Reverend Mitri and the others as the playground installation gets underway.
Once Susie had introduced me to Maha, it was time to leave. No problem, right? Wrong. We went into the Bethlehem checkpoint, which, as I have said twice now, is a total fortress. I took a few pictures of the Bethlehem side and a few of the parts in between where you have to go out and then in. And I took a picture of our second fabulous moment of irony. As I was leaving the first passageway to go past the Wall (the ultimate symbol of the occupation) to the second passageway (where you get told to stay or go or where you get detained), I looked up at this side of the Wall, and the Israeli government had hung a three-story high sign that was clearly meant for tourists. It read "Peace Be With You" and was signed "Israeli Ministry of Tourism". I could only think, You've GOT to be kidding. What an obvious contradiction it is to control Palestinians' every move and then talk about peace. Ha! There's a picture of this below. Note the barbed wire and cages above, around, and in front of the sign. This is like the American government advertising their war and then wishing us all peace. Seriously.
Wall graffitti on the Bethlehem side:
But the worst of it was yet to come. When we got inside the next section of the checkpoint, there was a gate that only opened for three people at a time. So the green light above it would be lit, three people would go in, then the red light would go on and the gate would lock (see picture below). Susie pointed to the place where she had gotten frisked and detained. It didn't look pretty. Karam and Lulu went in with a guy in front of us, and Susie and I waited behind them. We started talking with a very friendly Palestinian tour guide, who was with a group of Europeans on tour. He and Susie were talking in Arabic, and she told him how last week she had been stopped and detained, and his response was basically, "Oh, that was you? I was there and was wondering what was holding up the line for so long!" So he turned around to his tour group to relate the story to them, only he changed the details a bit. He told them that she had been detained because she was a tourist taking photographs (she was really detained because she was a Palestinian taking photographs, and then they got suspicious of some very simple photos on the memory card of her camera - see her blog for more details). When Susie and I started to correct him, he told us in Arabic that he doesn't want to share that kind of stuff with them because being a tour guide is his livelihood and this could really alienate and scare his customers. We understood immediately and shut our mouths, but it was so sad to hear him say that. Of course, without question, I respect his decision, but I hate that that's the position he has been put in... to not even be able to tell an important truth like that without risking his livelihood.
The ominous gate with the green and red lights:
Susie and I finally got to go through the gate, where we placed all our stuff (including the stuff in our pockets) onto the conveyor belt of an x-ray machine and then went through a metal detector. I kept setting it off for some reason, and a voice suddenly came from a speaker above me (yes, it was like being talked to by God, but a very hateful and controlling god) and told me to show my passport. I kept turning around and around, looking for a human face so I would know what direction to aim the open passport in my hand. Finally, I saw the top of a person's head through the window past the metal detector, showed him/her my passport, collected my stuff, and walked out.
We had made it to the last stop in the checkpoint, and we thought we were finally home free, but to no avail. At the last window with the turnstile that would be our official entry into Jerusalem, the soldiers stopped us. They said that all of us could go through except for Lulu, because Lulu had no identification. Susie argued that this was ridiculous, since they had let Lulu, only 14 years old, in through this very turnstile just a few hours before and since she lives in Jerusalem and we could not just leave her in Bethlehem. This argument fell on deaf ears. I started telling them that I'm a Jew and "Is this how you treat Jews and the people they travel with? Is this how you welcome American Jews to Israel?" (I was trying to use some privilege to my advantage). We were being as loud as possible so as to make it clear to all the tourists behind us exactly what was happening and so as to make it as difficult as could be for the soldiers to hold us there. Nothing worked, though. It was so ironic that Lulu was actually through the turnstile on the other side, but, with the threat of violence always looming (every soldier had a gun as long as my torso), she could do nothing but obey their order to stay there. We argued with the Captain too, but in the end Susie and Karam had to leave to try to get in touch with someone who could get hold of Lulu's ID.
I stayed with Lulu at the checkpoint, and eventually one soldier made us go back through the turnstile and be with the large group of soldiers that had congregated inside this area of the building. I argued with them some more, showing them my passport and repeating all of our previous points about the fact that Lulu had just come through this checkpoint a few hours ago without any identification and that they could just look at the footage from their many security cameras to see that this was true. Really, how hard could it be? They told me no a million more times and questioned Lulu in Arabic (she doesn't speak English or Hebrew) to see if we were lying (they did get us on one point, which was that Susie and I thought that Lulu is only 11 but really she is 14). Then, one of the original soldiers took me aside and asked me again if I was Jewish. I told him, "Yes, look at my name. That's not Jewish?" He told me that as a Jew I am not allowed to go into the West Bank without a special permit from the IDF (Israeli Defense Forces). I told him that was ridiculous and that I am an American, not an Israeli. He told me it doesn't matter, and if I am a Jew I have to have that permit. I said, "Well, then, fine, I'm not Jewish anymore. You can have my Jewishness." He said, "Ok." So crazy. (By the way, this fact about Jews needing special permits for travel to and from the West Bank was later confirmed by our friend Mohammed.)
So I went off to join Lulu, and we walked away from the soldiers. We amused ourselves as she helped me practice my written Arabic by reading all the signs around us, with fun new phrases such as "Stop here and show your identification" and "Do not enter without accompaniment". The best one had directions for how Palestinians should place their right hands on the handprint reading machine right before the turnstile. I'm developing a whole new vocabulary especially for occupation!
Finally, Susie and Karam came back but without any ID for Lulu. No one was home, and Susie couldn't get in touch with Lulu's brother Mohammed. We all just waited behind a fence outside (the inside was really cold, but outside it was sunny), and Lulu tried calling her brother. We started talking with a soldier who had some kind of higher rank than the others and spoke fluent Arabic (I think Susie mentioned that he was Druze). Susie engaged him in conversation, flirting with him a little (which was more than demeaning for her, since he was probably about 15-18 years younger than she), and this was the strategy that finally worked. They let us out, Lulu and all. Start to finish, passing through that checkpoint took us well over an hour.
But it wasn't really over yet. Just as we were getting into our car, Lulu's brother Mohammed pulled up in another car with her identification. He saw the soldier that had stopped us from moving along and said something to the extent of "Shame on you for stopping a young girl from passing." That set the soldier off, and he made Mohammed go all the way up the long walkway and give him his ID. He kept us all there for another 10 minutes or so and then walked back out and gave back Mohammed's ID. In the end, it's all about power and control and soldiers being able, on a whim, to do whatever they want to Palestinians.
Because we were so far behind, we had to send Lulu along with her brother and go back with Karam for Susie to say goodbye to some other family members. I was sad to see Karam go, because I really enjoyed her company, but inshallah I'll be able to hang out with her some more this coming week, since she's offered to go with me to Bethlehem and some other places.
Susie and I had a quick lunch in the Mount of Olives neighborhood and then went to Hebron to meet with Mohammed, who works with ANERA and will be helping me a lot with the Beit Anan playground. (Yes, this is a different Mohammed than the last two I've mentioned so far in these blogs, but you've got to understand that in the Arab world every third guy is named Mohammed. So get used to it.) We walked around a few parts of Hebron. In the Old City, Mohammed pointed out some abandoned houses that were constructed hundreds of years ago and lived in by Palestinians for generations before these families were driven out by Israelis (not sure if it was the settlers or the IDF). The architecture on these houses was amazing, but the insides were a mess. I've posted a picture below. Mohammed was great, and not only did he show us around Hebron, he also invited us to his family's house about 30-40 minutes away. On our way to see Mohammed's family, we passed by a checkpoint. Since we were driving behind Mohammed's car, we watched him get pulled over first. The IDF soldiers made him step out of his vehicle and open the trunk for them. Then, he had to go back into his car while they searched the trunk, even picking up the carpet to see if there was anything underneath. Now, I should clarify that there is absolutely nothing suspicious looking about Mohammed except that he is a Palestinian, and, to the IDF, any Palestinian is a potential terrorist. Susie and I sat watching and talking about the scene unfolding before us, about how it is in moments like this that the IDF attempts to emasculate and dehumanize Palestinian men. I was on the verge of tears watching this person who I had already come to like and respect be treated this way. And I know it's not even close to the worst kind of treatment he could have received. We, of course, passed through the checkpoint without a problem, as they didn't know we were with him. I was driving because Susie had been feeling too tired, and I started moving very fast towards what I thought was a row of spikes facing away from me (you know the kind you see in the entrances to parking lots that are ok if you go over them the right way but will puncture your tires if you pass over them in the opposite direction). Suddenly, one of the soldiers yelled, "Stop!" and I knew right away what he was trying to tell me. I slammed on the brakes and came to an abrupt stop about a foot before running over the line of spikes. He said, "They go both ways." If I had stopped even a foot later, our two front tires would have been destroyed and we would have been totally screwed. Whew!
We continued on through some of the most
beautiful countryside I have encountered yet and finally arrived at Mohammed's family's houses. His family has owned all the land on this hillside for generations, and just a year ago they built a group of gorgeously designed houses overlooking the entire valley and with a view to die for. Better than the view, though, were his mother, aunt, cousins, siblings, neices and nephews... Everyone we met. What interesting and hospitable folks! We drank tea and Arabic coffee and talked and laughed for a few hours before Susie and I had to leave to get back to Jerusalem. It was hard to walk away from such wonderful people, but maybe I'll be able to meet some of them again, as I'll be seeing Mohammed quite a lot over the course of my stay here.Susie and I got back to Jerusalem before 9PM, and both of us were so exhausted we just went back to our respective residences.
As a final note, I also wanted to share some general reflections that I had today. First, I think it is so hilarious every time I hear Susie explaining my mixed heritage to the people we meet. There's something about the look of surprise on their faces when they find out that I'm half Ashkanazi Jew and half Arab Muslim. And, of course, she always starts out by telling them that my mother is from Morocco. It's really cute and cool to see people processing what this all means. (It's even more fun than when I do it to people in the States!)
Second, now that I've covered considerable ground in the West Bank, I've noticed that the Israelis are very strategic in the way that they sprinkle little symbols of control throughout Palestinian land - checkpoints, settlements, outposts, etc. And above every one of these flies at least one big, blue and white Israeli flag. It's such an important visual representation of the occupation, because you'll be driving around through lush land with olive trees planted in steppes down the side of the mountains and suddenly you encounter an Israeli flag and some clear sign that this is not really Palestinian land at all, that this land is actually under Israeli control and any Palestinian who forgets it might not even live to regret it. When I see this, I think of how I've always heard farmers talk about being able to look across their land and know they've loved and cultivated it. It would be hard for a Palestinian in the West Bank to look across his land without seeing the Israeli flag cut across the sky, disrupting what was left of a beautiful view.
Thanks to everyone for making it this far in my long, long post. Hopefully, tomorrow I won't have such an eventful day!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
