A Student Crossing Boundaries

COMING HOME TOMORROW!

2009-08-09T13:44:00.000-07:00

Shalom to Israel... Ma salaama to the OPT... I'M HEADED HOME!

The Wild, Wild West Bank: Where Settlers Roam and Know No Law

2009-08-03T07:58:00.000-07:00

The traffic from East to West Jerusalem, as it is every day, was bad. I sat at a standstill with my cabbie, Ahmed, as the clock struck noon. The phone rang, and of course, who else would be calling but Jonah Michael Seligman. “We’ll come meet you. Get off near the YMCA.” Ahmed made a Village People joke in response to my directions, and we parted ways. My next step was hopping into the wobbly, white pick-up truck of Noa, our guide for the day.

Noa is an employee for the Jerusalem Peace Now office, and had offered to take Jonah and me along with her as she went to investigate a rumor of new, illegal caravan construction in a northern settlement called Kohav Ya’kov. As far as I know, a “caravan” is a new settlement or an addition to an older settlement built beyond specified boundaries. This specific caravan, according to Noa, also was illegal due to its negligence of the process of submitting plans and waiting for approval from the Defense Minister.

We entered Kohav Ya’kov and scaled the mountain on which it is built. After a few minutes of driving, we encountered a construction site located beyond a previously installed fence. “They build so fast,” declared Noa. Apparently an aerial view of Kohav Ya’kov the week prior indicated no such construction. From afar, the three of us counted over 10 housing units.

My telephoto lens caught the construction from a distance.

Noa put her car into “audacious” gear, and approached the construction site. At first, she didn’t want to get out of the car. “I get scared, sometimes.” I don’t blame her. With the car running, Noa and I left Jonah to guard the vehicle as we came within several meters of the new, illegal housing units. A pipe-smoking elder manning a table near the site allowed us to approach with some reservations. He was clearly suspicious. Noa said we wanted to look at the view, but when she pulled out her camera, the man stood up and began to shout. “He was expecting me,” said Noa.

In a harsh tone of Hebrew, the settler man insisted on us leaving and followed us all the way back to the car. Noa expressed some concern that the security gate would not allow us out of the compound until the police came and dealt with the situation. It’s not illegal for us to be there, or for us to take pictures, but like in many cases, the police and government play the settler game too. After all, Avigdor Lieberman, a prominent Israeli politician currently serving as Foreign Affairs Minister under Bibi, has his own settler road bearing his name.

I employed my telephoto lens and took some shots from a more remote location, and we were on our way with no problems from the gate security. Along our path down the mountain, we encountered the “Obama Tent.” A new outpost designed to host a children’s summer camp, the tent gained its name as a gift to Obama after his insistence on the freezing of settlements. I don’t know if Obama would think the title so funny, nor flattering.

The Obama Tent (Ha'tzarif Shel Obama)

We returned through the Hizma Checkpoint through Jerusalem, requiring us to drive through a settlement called Pizgat Ze’ev. We made our way down to the southern part of the city and left the municipal border of Jerusalem. Noa wanted to show Jonah and me an instance of land confiscation in the name of settlement. She took us to a place called Har Homa.

Built around the year 2000, Har Homa, as explained by Noa, was the brainchild of Bibi Netanyahu after his first go at the office of prime minister. Har Homa was built outside of the municipal boundary of Jerusalem (well beyond both the Green Line, and the 1967 Line). It’s a rapidly growing place with construction in every corner. I’m sure the construction is legal, although Condi Rice, during her time as Secretary of State, demanded that Israel halt construction in Har Homa. They didn’t seem to hear her.

Noa pulled around to an isolated corner of Har Homa, and pointed to a hillside. “This area,” she described, “was confiscated by the Israeli government for the purpose of building the separation barrier.” It was no small tract of land, especially for a country the size of New Jersey (ew, New Jersey).

Illegally confiscated land for the purpose of building the Separation Barrier.

Noa had a wedding to get to, so she dropped Jonah and me off near his apartment in Baka’a. I got on a bus headed back to the East side of the city, and we said farewell. This bus ride, however, was interrupted as we approached the Old City. We stopped near Jaffa Gate, and two Israeli police officers entered the bus requiring each passenger to produce their identification. The Palestinians held up their blue Jerusalem identification cards, or their green West Bank cards (with proper permission to be in Israel, of course). I felt very self conscious, as I was the only foreigner on-board, and nonetheless, I pulled out my American passport. Although it’s a blessing to have an American document in this part of the world (or anywhere for that matter), I still felt very self conscious as these Palestinian men and women were being subjected to random searches while I skated by on that eagle of freedom.

The police pulled a few men off the bus and kept them for questioning. I got off the bus as well. I was close enough to Damascus Gate where I could simply walk to catch my next bus, and avoid the wait. Instead of ditching the bus situation, however, I stood and took some pictures of this interrogation. It was pretty benign. It was just a few Palestinian men standing in front of two Israeli police officers answering questions. I left.

The bus situation.

West Banksy

2009-08-01T09:22:00.000-07:00

El Doctor Khalidi por el podio.

In order to compensate for my sub-par blogging habits in recent weeks, this report is a prompt one. I have just arrived back at the Augusta Victoria after a long day of running around the West Bank with Jonah. With it being Shabbat in Jerusalem with little to do during the day, Jonah and I made other plans.

We woke up early this morning after a relatively early evening. Jonah’s apartment, located in Baka’a, is in one of my favorite Jerusalem neighborhoods. Although the area can be considered to be “yuppie,” that character allows the neighborhood to maintain the only indie movie theater in Jerusalem. To our surprise, there were screenings on Shabbat, so we went to see Sin Nombre, which is a film I’ve been interested in for quite some time.

We turned in to allow ourselves enough time to sleep, as we were planning on waking up at 7:45am (which is early for college kids). By 9:15am we were in Sheikh Jarrah at the ANERA office where we met my colleague Jamal. Jamal was nice enough to offer us a ride to Birzeit University, the locale for a conference entitled “The Jerusalem Conference: History of the Future.” Birzeit, located outside of Ramallah, is one of the best universities serving the Palestinian community.

There was an excessive amount of introductory speeches leading up to the first panel, which set the schedule off course. According to the timetable, we were planning on staying for the whole morning session. Barely anything in the Middle East starts or ends on-time, I’ve come to notice, so I should have expected as much. I came away from the conference content, however, in that we had the opportunity to listen to a lecture by Rashid Khalidi.

Khalidi’s speech alluded to the famous Edward Said book entitled “The Question of Palestine,” with Khalidi adding his own flare of “… and the Obama administration.” Khalidi, as many may remember, is an acquaintance of the president, a relationship which placed Obama in some hot water during the election. Applying the same irrational Fox News logic of the Bill Ayers debacle, Obama was accused of being anti-Israel due to his friend, Khalidi’s politics.

In summary, Khalidi’s speech was riddled with skepticism about the capacity for any American administration to persuade the political actors in the region into a final-status peace agreement. Initially, Khalidi spoke about the surprise that the Netanyahu government felt after Obama’s insistence on the freezing of settlement expansion. This idea progressed to Khalidi’s prediction that AIPAC will soon turn the tables on the Obama administration for taking a hard-line against settlements.

Khalidi expressed a general sense of pessimism regarding the capacity for any two-state solution to be viable in this era. In this way, I feel that he is borrowing too much from Edward Said, who only in his dying days embraced the concept of a two-state solution. However, said Khalidi, if Obama wants to push the idea of a two-state solution, there must be a halt to the expansion of settlements in the West Bank AND in Jerusalem, there must be a full dismantling of ALL settlements in the West Bank and Jerusalem and there must be a clear cession of East Jerusalem land in order to allow for a Palestinian capital. It’s hard to speak on the Jerusalem issue, but I can definitively say that Israel will not dismantle Ma’ale Adumim or Gush Etzion, both of which are settlements of over 40,000 residents in strategic positions in the West Bank.

I was surprised to hear Khalidi’s back-handed praise for the American Jewish community. Khalidi was generally pleased with the minute level of opposition expressed by the American Jewish community in response to Obama’s statement on settlements. I didn’t know this, but Khalidi said that 78% of American Jews (or Jewish Americans, whatever you wish) voted for Obama, which, according to Jonah Seligman, was the most widely supportive religious group in the country. I guess we Robinsons weren’t the only family with an Obama bumper sticker in Hebrew.

To conclude, Khalidi criticized the Palestinian nation for its lack of political unity. Why should Obama stick his neck out for a people so divided? “It’s high time,” he declared, “that Palestinians come to a consensus.”

Jonah and I headed out from Birzeit around 12pm, and took a service taxi to Qalandia checkpoint where we crossed back into Jerusalem. Outside of Damascus Gate, we ate some kebab and hopped on a bus to Bethlehem. We were headed to the Dheisheh Refugee Camp, which is the home of the world famous Ibda’a Community Center.

On the way to Dheisheh, our taxi driver pointed out all of the famous graffiti stencils created by the famous British artist, Banksy. It was great to see some of these pieces that I’ve seen so commonly in books and on the internet in person.

I'm sure you've seen this one before. No? It's Bansky.

Jonah had made contact with a man named Shadi Alassi, who is an administrator at Ibda’a, and had set up a meeting beforehand. We sat down to some coffee with him, and I busted out my video camera. Soon, we got to talking. Shadi had some very interesting things to say, some of which I agreed with, much of which I disagreed with. When the topic of suicide bombers came up, Shadi said that such acts are protected under international law. It’s not an act of terrorism when you are rebelling against an occupation, which removes such an act from the category of terrorism. A man not under occupation (i.e. Osama Bin Laden) would be considered a terrorist if he did the same act, but a Palestinian suicide bomber is not so.

Shadi also brought up the Israeli practice of renaming or translating the names of former Arab towns in former Palestine. He mentioned the example of Tel Aviv, which (according to him) was known as Tal Rabiyah before 1948. I had heard of this before in a discussion with some of my colleagues at ANERA, although I heard a different narrative on my Birthright trip. The name Tel Aviv (lit. Hill of Spring) came from Theodor Herzl’s book Altneuland (Old New Land), and was an abstract application of the title. However, Tal Rabiyah (lit. Hill of Spring) is a direct Arabic translation from the Hebrew Tel Aviv. When we visited Independence Hall in Tel Aviv, they mentioned that Tel Aviv was a city established entirely by Jewish pioneers in 1909, that it was created from the sand. Palestinians have a different concept of the origin of the city. If anyone can help clarify this issue, please lead me in the right direction.

After our interview (which was incredibly interesting), Jonah and I did a short tour of the Dheisheh camp. We met two young boys who wanted me to take their picture. I did so, and they were so intrigued that they followed us around and continually asked for their picture to be taken. I complied, until ultimately, we reached the end of our walk around the neighborhood.

We got back to Jerusalem in no time, and here I find myself, exhaustedly typing away in front of my computer. I think it’s time for a quick nap, and then off to my 2^nd to last Saturday night in Yerushalayim Shel Zahav. It was nice chatting with you, and I’ll be back before you know it.

Qurei of the Concrete Barrier

2009-07-29T15:16:00.000-07:00

In light of my imminent attendance at the Jerusalem Conference at Birzeit University (Ramallah) this coming Saturday, I would like to honor one of the keynote speakers:

Ahmed Qurei, a well known Palestinian figure and a former Prime Minister of the Palestinian Authority, served under Yassir Arafat at the height of the 2nd Intifada in 2003. Qurei filled Abu Mazen’s (Mahmoud Abbas’) shoes after he decided to resign at that point in time.

Although a prominent politician in his day, Qurei, like many Palestinian leaders, ceded to corrupt means at the expense of his own people. Qurei comes from a wealthy family with major stock in an Egyptian cement company called Al-Quds Cement (Al-Quds is the Arabic name for Jerusalem).

As most of you already know, Israel is currently in the process of constructing a “Separation Barrier” along the Oslo specified Green Line which lies between the West Bank and Israel. While the true motives of Israel’s decision to execute this costly project are debatable, there is no doubt that the violence accompanying the Intifada served as a major catalyst for Israel’s decision. Qurei, a businessman, found himself in a political position at the wrong time, at a time when the deal was ripe.

It didn’t take long for the Palestinian nation to learn what Qurei had done. Officials of a parliamentary committee discovered that Qurei’s Al-Quds Cement Co. had made a contract with the Israeli government for the sale of concrete for the specific purpose of constructing the Separation Barrier.

It’s not that complex of a scenario. This is the same separation barrier that many, if not most, Palestinians refer to as “The Apartheid Wall.” It serves a major talking point in the Palestinian narrative citing the injustices of Israel’s policies. It’s big, it’s ugly, and it padded the pockets of a man appointed by Arafat.

Please don’t interpret this blog post as a defense for Israel’s construction of the barrier. In many cases, I see the purpose of the wall as a tool for annexation of land in the West Bank (like in the West Bank town of Jayyus). I also see the wall as a means for Israel to reduce the Arab population of Jerusalem as a proactive move in making a case for the retention of the entire city of Jerusalem (like in the case of Shofat). I acknowledge the security value of maintaining a separation between Israel and the West Bank, but the process by which Israel is doing so is appalling.

To conclude this late-night revelatory rant, I would like to say how excited I am to see such a corrupt, conniving man like Qurei speak on Saturday. He holds a criminal celebrity status that few men are able to claim. Then again, few men have sold out their people on such a large scale for the sake of capital gains. The irony of the whole situation is that Qurei, while a selfish swine, still has the nerve to step onto the same stage and follow a speech by a true patriot like Rashid Khalidi. I lament for the Palestinian nation, and hope for their sake that they find some competency in a leader. Maybe at that point in time, they’ll find some justice.

Last Week in Brief: Nablus and Nir David

2009-07-21T07:22:00.000-07:00

I have just completed my fifth week as an intern at ANERA, which means I only have three more weeks to learn as much as I can while I’m here in Israel and the Occupied Palestinian Territories (OPT). After my splurge of blogging about my trip to Gaza, I fell off the wagon for a bit, and found it more useful to seek experiences that were worthy of my recounting at a later date.

Well that date has now arrived, and I sit before my computer, an insomniac. It is 3am, and I have work tomorrow, but I can’t sleep tonight for some reason. I figure that I might as well take advantage of my extended waking hours to write about this last week, about which I have kept all of you in the dark.

I traveled to Nablus on Tuesday morning to visit the ANERA office, and meet with the staff out there. If you are a Hebrew speaker, you may know Nablus more readily as Shechem, the name that appears in the Torah. Although I managed to forget my passport in my room, I remembered that I had done so with enough time for Julia and I to swing past the Augusta Victoria and pick it up.

We drove north to Nablus, and were ushered through the Huwarra checkpoint with ease. This came much to Julia’s surprise. In her previous experiences, says Julia, Huwarra is a nightmare. It is known to be the slowest checkpoint with the most traffic, often leaving travelers waiting for over an hour in line. We had no difficulties crossing into Nablus, and found ourselves in the ANERA office within minutes.

With a cup of Arabic coffee in my hand, I spoke with Rabah, the head engineer in our Nablus office. Rabah has served in many civil engineer positions for various prestigious organizations over the course of his career, and now works on ANERA’s Emergency Water and Sanitation (EWAS) projects in the Northern West Bank. Rabah began by describing to me the various EWAS projects that he oversees, two of which we had the opportunity to visit firsthand.

In addition, Rabah brought to my attention the plight of the West Bank town, Qalqilya (which is also a governorate). Qalqilya is a town in the western half of the West Bank, and is entirely enclosed by the separation barrier. The only part of the town that is not obstructed by the wall is where the checkpoint governs traffic moving in and out of the city. According to Rabah, nearly 80% of Qalqilya’s private businesses have fled the town seeking a better economic situation.

Rabah’s information session ended with his interpretation of the “politics of water” that serves as a major obstacle to any form of peace agreement. The majority of water sources that exist in the West Bank are within Area C, a term to indicate full Israeli control under the Olso Accords. Israel has taken some liberties with this form of partition by also placing the Jordan Valley (an important source of water) within Area C auspices.

The majority of ANERA’s water projects occur in Areas A or B, which are under full Palestinian control or joint Israeli/Palestinian control respectively. This proves hellish for Rabah in terms of logistics. In order to tap into the water sources in Area C, Rabah must deal with messy, inefficient and often non-compliant Israeli bureaucracies.

We took to the street from the Nablus office and visited a site in a small town outside of Nablus. ANERA is installing pipes in the town in order to bring water to the 50% of the residents who were previously without running water. When Rabah recounted that fact to Julia and I, he assumed a very proud expression. “Yes, we’re doing good work.”

Our next stop required us to climb to the top of Mt. Girizim, which serves as the famous location of the small Samaritan community. The Samaritans number about 750 in the world, and maintain two main communities: Mt. Girizim, and town farther west in Israel. Almost all Samaritans, however, must own property on their holy mount because they spend their Pesach there. Samaritans consider themselves to be the original, legitimate Jews, and speak a form of Ancient Hebrew as their language.

Apparently this small community was losing much of its water through leakages in the piping system. They approached ANERA, who decided to fund a project to reinstall piping for the town. We visited the work site, and then drove up further on Mt. Girizim to an ancient site where the Samaritans believe the biblical story of Abraham sacrificing the lamb truly occurred.

While we were staring down at the expansive sprawl of Nablus, an entourage of suits approached us. They were the entourage escorting the Palestinian Minister of Tourism on a visit to this site. I became confused by this prospect, based on the fact tha

t this site had a giant Israeli flag flying from the top, and this minister had absolutely no jurisdiction within Mt. Girizim. She likely had to apply for a permit to enter the Samaritan community in the first place.

**Side note: Samaritans hold both Israeli, and Palestinian identification cards, and some still hold Jordanian cards from back in the day.

Before leaving Nablus, Rabah took us to the famous “Arafat Sweets” where we tried some luscious kinafeh, which is a traditional Palestinian pastry, and one that was made famous by the city of Nablus. I love it.

We said goodbye to Rabah and made our way back to Jerusalem, where I decided to attend a screening of Turkish film called “My Only Sunshine” at the Jerusalem Film Festival. The screening was held at the Begin Cultural Center, and although I found the film to be tedious, pretentious and overall, bad, I explored a part of Jerusalem that I previously had not.

I’ll skip ahead to Friday. Jonah and I met up at the Jerusalem Central Bus Station in order to get to Beit She’an before Shabbat. We were going to visit our good friend Sivan who is spending time with her family at a kibbutz called Nir David. While we were waiting in the terminal, I got to talking with some Israeli soldiers, one of whom made aliyah from Boston. I was talking to him about my experiences on Taglit-Birthright, and I mentioned Bernie Madoff and the financial troubles of many Jewish philanthropists that came from this scandal. This guy didn’t even know who Madoff was, much less know what he ponzied.

The bus came eventually, and we got up to the hot, hot, heat of the Jordan Valley and Mt. Gilboa. We met up with Sivan at the bus stop, and her mom took us to see the Jordanian border crossing at Beit She’an. They wouldn’t let us through without our passports. Darn!

Our time at Ir David was really relaxing. We went swimming in the natural spring that runs through the kibbutz, and stays at a warm temperature all year long. I played with a puppy, Jonah fell a few times, Sivan tried to drown Jonah a few times… It was all good. We ate “Shabbat” dinner (I use the quotes because we ate a non-kosher meal at this completely secular kibbutz) and started walking around after a nice dinner conversation. I must add that before we got up, I beat Sivan in Backgammon/Sheshpesh.

We ran into a group of young people sitting around outside. They invited us to come hang out, and we complied. Jonah was tired, so he went inside of the home of these complete strangers and fell asleep immediately. That was the end of Joner. It turns out that the majority of these people had made aliyah from South or Central America. Two were from Chile, and two were from El Salvador. Who knew there were Jews in El Salvador!?

They showed us a good time, and we were out and about until about 4:30am, at which point I went to wake up Jonar. He missed the whole night, but I think he got some good sleep out of it.

The next morning, Sivan took us to a very nice extension of that natural spring which serves as a community gathering place (called the Sachne). There were hundreds of people swimming among the waterfalls and jumping from the trees into the water. It looks like an artificial water park, which makes it all the more amazing when you realize it is natural. We swam around for a bit, and then returned to the kibbutz where we sat and ate plums and watched “The Dog Whisperer.”

It was almost time to go, but we had just enough time for Sivan to take us on a bike tour around the peripheral road of Ir David. We saw the factories where they used to make agricultural equipment, and she took us to this beautiful cemetery on the grounds with Mt. Gilboa looming over the resting place.

At this point, it was time to head back to Jerusalem. That weekend was a perfect combination of fun and relaxation. I was able to enjoy the natural beauty of Israel, while taking a break from the fast-paced tension of Jerusalem’s city life.

I left my swim-trunks at Nir David though. SIVAN! GIVE THEM BACK!

Gaza: Day 3

2009-07-14T09:53:00.001-07:00

The power can go out at any moment in Gaza. You could be sitting at your computer, working on an email, or a grant proposal, and then the entire grid shuts down. Every neighborhood is without power for at least 8 hours per day, a conservation technique on the part of the government. The lucky ones have generators, and the smart ones have devices called UBS which maintain a charge for your electronic devices (i.e. computers), allowing the user to turn off the device properly. Nonetheless, this is a frustrating reality for many Gazans.

On Wednesday morning, Nahid picked up Julia and I from the Al-Deira Hotel at 8am. He was bleary eyed, and had not yet found his characteristic energy. I asked him the reasoning behind his demeanor. “The power went out last night. I woke up at 2am to turn on the generator, but it’s hard to go back to sleep.” Before we exited the hotel, he pointed out a vase in the lobby, which turned out to be the shell casing for an Israeli (American made) rocket. It was a very Gaza morning.

I said goodbye to the Al-Deira Hotel, and to A.J., the hotel receptionist. A.J. and I had engaged in a very compelling discussion two nights prior, where he explained to me his personal philosophy on Gaza politics. “We are living in the Islamic Republic of Gaza, didn’t you know?” asked A.J. rhetorically. As an atheist, A.J. studied English at Gaza’s very own Islamic University, but dropped out for the following reason: “I hate fucking Hamas.” A.J. harbored similar feelings about Fatah, and the P.A.

A.J. was a young man of 21, and considered Barack Obama to be one of his idols. He excitedly brought from the back room his copy of Dreams from my Father, which he was reading in its original English version. Obama represented to A.J. a self-made man, who relied very little on support and more on his internal strength. When I asked A.J. if he happened to watch Obama’s Cairo speech, he responded “no, I was besieged here in Gaza.” A.J.’s statement was a direct reference to the Israeli imposed blockade on Gaza, which is often referred to as a “siege.”

This siege is also enhanced by the limitations upon which the Hamas government places on information. Among the 300 satellite channels available at the Al-Deira Hotel, only 2 of them were in English, one of those was Al-Jazeera. It is likely that A.J. was unable to watch the speech because it was not broadcast within Gaza. Nonetheless, Obama represents hope even to the people of Gaza.

Obama came up as a relevant issue in another conversation on Wednesday. July 8^th was Mona’s birthday, and there was a gathering in the common room of the ANERA Gaza office to celebrate. One of the women working on the MfP program, the one who made Mona’s cake, is a round-faced young woman with a light complexion. Mona asked me if I thought this woman looked “American.” “Well, what does an American look like? Does Obama look American to you?” Mona laughed and said, “No, Obama looks Gazan.”

At first I didn’t know how to react to this comment, but the following days allowed me to internalize it. Obama resonates not only with Americans for his youth and zeal, but with Africa because of his familial roots, and with Arabs because of his skin color (and possibly his middle name). He is not the familiar face of a white oppressor to these communities. He has a real “in” with the world, and that makes me excited for the future.

Upon leaving the Al-Deira Hotel, Nahid took Julia and I to visit 2 ANERA project sites in Gaza City. Both of the sites were preschools undergoing renovations in impoverished areas. The first preschool we visited had just been completed, and ANERA paid for a new roof as well as new bathrooms and tiling. The second site was still in the process of being renovated. Although I previously stated that ANERA used USAID funding to facilitate these projects, I was recently corrected by our Vice President, Philip Davies. These renovation projects are made possible by private donation.

The second preschool was in the most dilapidated neighborhood I had ever seen. Nahid joked about ANERA renovating the entire neighborhood. The streets were entirely of dirt, and garbage was strewn everywhere. Children ran in every direction, often no older than 3 or 4 years old, and the majority of whom wore no shoes. I asked Nahid if there were more children in Gaza than most other places, and he responded with the statistic that 60% of Gazans are under 16 years old.

The final stop in my tour of Gaza was at the American International School of Gaza in Beit Hanoun. Beit Hanoun suffered from the destruction of Cast Lead more than any town that I visited in Gaza. In every direction, there was a building with a crumbled side, or a broken minaret. We passed multiple tent camps which now serve as housing for many Gazans who lost their homes. The most devastating site, however, was the American International School.

What Nahid described as formerly the “best school in Gaza” now lay in ruins. This was clearly a majestic building at one point in time, but the bombardment of rocket fire changed that. I took away two ironic points about this site. The first was the condition of the sign proclaiming the name of the school; it was entirely in-tact. The sign lingered as a relic of a past life, as a reminder to all visitors that what was once on this site was a place of learning. The second ironic point was that the grass in the yard was still green. Nahid boasted proudly that ANERA installed water tanks at the AIS several years ago to water the grass, and they clearly braved the storm of rocket fire.

I took a lap around the school and observed the extraordinary damage. The entire bus fleet had caught fire and likely exploded as evidenced by the lack of windows. The doors were all rusted out, and traces of flames scarred the metal. I came across a grammar book strewn on the ground near the school. This book somehow avoided being burned or destroyed in the rocket fire, and now posed the following question to any passer-by: “What did you see?”

Nahid took Julia and I back to the Erez checkpoint, where we had to wait for coordination between the P.A. station, and the Israeli authorities. Although Hamas controls Gaza, Israel does not at all communicate with this terrorist organization. Therefore, when people want to cross back over into Israel, the P.A. serves as the conduit for prompting this movement. We were quickly approved, and we approached the Erez terminal, thanking Nahid for his hospitality.

The security measures for entering back into Israel are much more extensive than leaving. A traveler must first enter a room and open his/her bag and hold it open for a surveillance camera. A voice tells you to move through when they’ve seen enough. The traveler must then empty his/her bag of electronics and place them separately from the rest of the luggage on the conveyor belt for scanning. Once your luggage is en-route, the traveler walks into a tube with a rotating scanner which fully encloses you, and looks at your body 360 degrees.

The traveler then follows a disembodied voice projected from on-high which provides prompts for the subsequent steps. The voice, in reality, is simply an Israeli soldier looking down from behind bullet proof glass speaking through a microphone. The soldier guides you through a maze, and your steps are incumbent on how menacing you look. I was directed into a back room where I was asked to remove both my button-up shirt and my undershirt for the purpose of their placement on an x-ray conveyor belt. I was clean, so they let me through.

The final step is passport control. Once you’ve reached passport control, your basically in the clear. My experience consisted on two 20 year old Israeli soldiers laughing and joking throughout the questioning process. They asked me what I planned to do after college, and I responded with “That’s a good question.” They let me through.

I made it! I made it back to Israel from Gaza! Although I had contracted some pretty bad food poisoning, I was happy to get back to Jerusalem. I took a shower, and a nap, and my life was back to normal. This trip will undoubtedly be one of my most memorable. Very few people are able to say they entered Gaza after Cast Lead, and even fewer people have done so at the age of 20. I will travel with my Erez stamp as a mark of prowess for years to come. Upon my return, when people ask me about my trip, I respond “Good.” It was good because although it was by far the most depressing scenario in which I have found myself, I learned more about myself and the reality in Gaza than I could ever do by reading a million books. I spoke with people, I saw the destruction, I ate the food, but I didn’t drink the water.

Gaza: Day 2

2009-07-13T13:10:00.001-07:00

Returning from Al-Mahthaf the night before, I experienced an intense pain in my stomach. I lay down on my bed for some time, but the pain did not go away. It persisted until morning, and I now found it to be accompanied by a sizeable headache. My first inclination: food-poisoning. I ate lightly at breakfast, but I was still unable to shake the pains. I figured that it would subside as the day progressed.

First thing in the morning, I accompanied Julia and Nahid on their site visit of the Gaza YMCA. ANERA was hoping to form some consortium with the organization along the lines of providing sporting equipment and other items to their summer camps, and programs. Unfortunately, this project cannot go through for a number of reasons.

The YMCA is a large compound in Gaza City, and it serves as one of the few positive places for young kids within the entirety of Gaza. The administration now boasts 30 straight years of summer camps for elementary school students, which bring positive influence from older Gazans to young, impressionable children. The camp offers a range of activities for its patrons from basketball and soccer to traditional Palestinian dancing (Dabke) to drawing/painting.

I walked around the grounds as the children were playing, taking photos at Nahid’s request. I began to speak with the children, and found that they were as curious about me as I was about them, and their life in Gaza. They continually asked where I was from, my last name, my first name, was I sad about Michael Jackson’s death, etc. They also kept requesting that I show them my photos. When I asked for a group photograph, the 15 or so children formulated so efficiently, it was as if they had practiced this pose.

By the time we got back to the ANERA office, the effects of my food poisoning were overwhelming. I had a fever, and my headache had gotten worse. I took a nap, and drank sage tea that Mona had made for me, but I was still struggling. 3pm came around, and it was time to leave the office.

Nahid drove Julia and I back to the Al-Deira, where we met up with Sami Abdel-Shafi, the Gaza consultant for the Carter Center. Sami comes from a very prominent Gaza family. His late grandfather, Haidar Abdel-Shafi was a member of the PLO Executive Committee under Arafat, and his father is a renowned surgeon. Sami, while maintaining American citizenship, is unable to leave Gaza because of the travel restrictions on Gazans. He lived in San Francisco for a long time, and worked for Cisco Systems before he moved back to Gaza.

Sami is another one of those Gazans who does not align himself with Hamas. He similarly rejects affiliation with the PA, and seems to me as a very rational, intelligent man. We spoke about a number of issues, and brought to light for me the reasoning behind the widespread support for Hamas. According to Sami, support for Hamas has strengthened since the end of Israel’s Operation Cast-Lead which ended in January. While Hamas enjoys the support of most Gazans, Sami explained that this support comes for specific issues rather than a unilateral approval of Hamas’ programs. In the same way that most Americans do not ascribe to the entire platform of whichever party they most frequently vote for, Gazans focus on specific issues, many of which are fulfilled by Hamas.

Sami also articulated the stark division between the militant wing of Hamas, and its government wing. While Hamas is indeed the terrorist organization that the Western media has portrayed so thoroughly for us Americans, it also serves as the prevailing government entity within Gaza. It is a democratically elected body that executes social services and legislative measures like most parliaments around the world, ineffectively. The militant wing resides under the same name, Hamas, but represents a separate faction from the government, and is often at odds with the government. In reality, the militant wing wields the most power within Gaza, because how do you tell men with Kalashnikoff rifles calling for the destruction of the state of Israel what to do?

At the end of my conversation with Sami, I was dragging badly. My energy level was low, and I needed a nap. We said our goodbyes, and I passed out for several hours in my bed. When I woke up, I had no appetite whatsoever. This food poisoning had taken over my body, and I just had to deal with it. I tried to read, but with no ability to focus, I was unsuccessful. My only option was to turn on the T.V.

I browsed the hundreds of channels for hours. All I could seem to find were terrible Arabic music videos, televangelist type preaching by bearded Imams or Egyptian soap operas. I found Al-Jazeera in English, although they only talked about the ethnic clash between the Han Chinese and the Uighurs for about an hour. This was unacceptable. Finally, before I lost all hope, I came upon Fox Movies, which specialized in giving royalty payments to the owners of the rights of the worst movies ever made. I watched the following: “A Knight’s Tale,” and “Fever Pitch.” Enough said. It’s a period in my life that I would like to forget now that I’ve gotten it off of my chest.

That was the end of my exhilarating evening. I was to leave for Jerusalem the next day, so I went to bed thinking about the great antibiotic pills that would await me.

Gaza: Day 1

2009-07-12T04:36:00.000-07:00

I woke up early on Monday morning. I had already packed my bag the night before. My colleague, Julia, and I were in the car and ready to go by 8am, and by 9:15am, we were at the Erez checkpoint on the northern border of the Gaza Strip. We would have been at Erez 15 minutes earlier, but we had to stop and get q-tips and chocolate. These items are unavailable within Gaza, so we brought them as provisions to the ANERA Gaza staff.

Erez is like no other border crossing I have previously experienced. Granted, it is not known to be as intense as the Allenby crossing, but since the end of the war in January, the Israelis take every possible security measure.

Before even arriving to Erez, a traveler must have approval to cross from Israel into Gaza. Since January, only UN employees and aid workers are granted access to Gaza. Palestinians living in Jerusalem or the West Bank cannot cross the border, and Israelis sure as hell cannot go through. If the Israelis had some inclination that I was Jewish, they likely would not have allowed me to enter.

The next step in the process is creating coordination, which must also occur prior to arriving at Erez. Coordination is, in basic terms, the traveler telling the Israelis when he/she would like to cross into Gaza, and for how long.

Julia and I submitted our passports to a guard stationed in a booth outside of the Erez terminal at 9:20 am. She was a blonde Israeli who spoke little English, and whose voice was projected at 100x its normal decibel range by a loudspeaker fashioned on her booth. At this point, all we could do was wait while the Israelis further checked our qualifications, ensuring that we had both approval and coordination on this specific date.

I took a seat on a curb and watched the desperate gaggle of taxi drivers squawking at any rare soul who happened to come out of the Erez terminal. They all spoke over one another, and tried to undercut the competition by walking to the front of the pack. Of the two people I saw exiting Erez, both had rides waiting for them. They drove away with the gaggle smoking a dejected cigarette.

A group of 6 tourists approached the passport submission booth spouting loud French. They were dressed inappropriately if they were hoping to pass into what would later be described to me as the “Islamic Republic of Gaza.” The women were wearing tank-tops (no shoulders!) and the one man I saw donned an obnoxiously red Gilligan hat (Why draw attention to yourself in Gaza?). They were quickly turned away without coordination.

An older Palestinian couple sat farther down the curb. I tried to read their facial expressions, but they were stoic. They must have been waiting there in the Erez heat for several hours, and I wondered if they remembered what it was like to travel in and out of Gaza before 1967, before January 2009.

Finally, after an hour of waiting for the Israelis to discover our coordination we were allowed to enter the Erez terminal. Walking from the passport submission booth to the entrance gate, a very prominent banner hangs on the chain-link. “Gilad Still Lives,” a reference to Gilad Shalit, the kidnapped Israeli soldier who resides in captivity at the hands of Hamas. Arguably the terrorist organization’s only bargaining chip when it comes to a negotiation with Israel.

We flew through passport control. My nice, navy blue, eagle-clad American passport now has an “Erez Terminal Exit” stamp right next to the Israeli tourist visa. I now think the only way to avoid a strip-search at Ben-Gurion Airport in August is to wear my brand new kippah and fabricate a desire to make “aliyah.” That is my round-about way of saying, Erez will certainly not help to expedite my checking-in process when I leave Israel.

After leaving the interior of the Erez terminal, there is a “buffer zone” of about 1 kilometer that separates the building from the Palestinian Authority coordination station. Maintenance of the buffer zone is not on the priority list of any governing faction. The canopy overhead is shredded tarpaulin that waves with the wind. Broken road-blocks are placed randomly along the walkway. Sewage trenches run along both sides of the path and former industrial fields now simply house crumbled concrete. A glance behind will reveal the towering smokestacks of the Israeli town, Ashkelon.

Julia and I met up with the ANERA Gaza staff member, Amar, beyond the walkway. He ushered us into his car, and although Julia is technically my supervisor, she still ceded the front-seat to me. Confused, I inquired about this action. “It’s unacceptable for a woman to sit in the front seat of a car, especially if it would require a man to sit in the back seat.”

The last step in the Erez security process is getting through the Hamas checkpoint. This checkpoint is rather a rusted out cargo box with holes for windows and a door. There were at least 5 men inside of this box, and only 1 of whom was actually checking passports. The rest of the men just sat and lounged, sending streams of Arabic back and forth.

A sickly orange kitten lay near the rusted out box meowing and moaning. I was waiting for one of the Hamas guards to use their automatic weapons to help her be quiet at any moment.

They asked to see our bags. I opened mine, took out my cameras and clothes. Nothing suspicious. “Oh, you’re American?” Go over there.

We shuffled over to another more trailer-looking rusted out box with three men inside. One of these men sat behind a pair of glasses, and a desk poring over a list of figures. This was the swine-flu check. I handed the man my passport, and he wrote down all of my information. “When was the last time you were in the United States? June 1? That’s way before swine-flu. Ok, you’re ok.” 2 minutes later, Amar, Julia and I were on our way after a successful passage through the Erez checkpoint.

Amar noticed as I removed my camera from my backpack. “You want to take pictures?” This was an invitation to a detour. We traveled from Erez through the town of Jabalia. Amar made sure to point out the immense destruction that this area suffered during the 22-day siege.

I saw very few people around Jabalia. One man was using a sledge-hammer to crush the shards of foundation from a former building. The blockade on Gaza prevents construction materials from entering the strip, therefore precluding most rebuilding efforts. Amar explained to me that this man was likely collecting the crushed concrete to apply makeshift repairs to his home. Two other men were collecting steel wire.

The carcasses of automobiles lay in abundant piles throughout the detour. At one point, I noticed a white vehicle frame with the letters “UN” still visibly painted on the driver’s side door. I had never before witnessed such destruction with my own eyes.

Amar proceeded into Gaza City, where the traffic was heavy. The intersection represented to me the epitome of chaos, with dysfunctional traffic lights, and even more strikingly dysfunctional traffic cops. A four-way intersection consisted of arbitrary decision makers inching forward from four directions until one person took the initiative to move through quickly. One cop, who was attempting to regulate the intersection, was talking on his cell phone while communicating through his walkie-talkie while directing traffic. He wore a frustrated grimace.

Every corner housed a pocket of Hamas guards wearing blue and black fatigues, bearing automatic weapons. I raised my camera for a discreet snapshot, but Amar stopped me. We didn’t want any problems on the first day of my first trip to Gaza.

We arrived at the ANERA Gaza office, and I met the staff. Immediately, Mona, the head of ANERA’s Milk for Preschoolers program, and I went to work editing a cumulative report on the effectiveness of providing fortified milk and biscuits to malnourished and anemic children. Amar brought in a lunch of shawerma sandwiches midway through the work day.

The Gaza office closes around 3pm every day, so Julia and I were escorted by the office engineer, Nahid to a pizza place down the street after work. The owner of this restaurant is an old friend of Nahid’s. They grew up together in Gaza and attended Northeastern University at the same time. After mentioning Brandeis’ proximity to Boston, the two men probed my brain for information about Boston in 2009. “Have you been down Huntington Avenue? That’s where I lived.” “Have you ever watched the sun go down at the Christian Science Center Building?” “Have you ever been to [blank] restaurant?” There was a pointed sense of nostalgia floating back and forth between these old friends.

The next stop was the Al-Deira Hotel, which was to be my home for the next two nights. Although Julia had ascribed high praise to this institution, she failed to fully encompass its unique flavor. Al-Deira is an oasis in this strip full of rubble. My room was spectacular. It had a satellite television with 300 channels, a bathroom complete with a bidet, a loft with a couch and tea table. I could not believe that such a hotel could exist in the very same Gaza that I saw in Jabalia. Al-Deira is also located right on the Mediterranean Sea, which allows for a pleasant breakfast ambience as you eat on their large terrace.

I napped and showered, just in time for Nahid to take Julia and I to meet Mona at another Gaza gem; Al Maht-haf. The word maht-haf in Arabic means “museum,” and while this place was a museum, it was also home to one of Gaza’s finest restaurants. The owner is a contractor who did quite well for himself. During construction, he often found pottery and artifacts which he then compiled in order to create his own personal museum. His maht-haf contains ancient Gazan pottery used to carry olive oil and wine across the Mediterranean, and many other artifacts of Gazan history.

After our meal, Nahid dropped Julia and I back at Al-Deira. We had another 2 days of Gaza, and we needed our rest.

What's in a Name?: Hebron/Khalil

2009-07-05T15:29:00.000-07:00

“I went to Hebron yesterday.”

“Where?”

“Hebron. You know, West Bank village, full of violent settlers.”

“Khalil.”

“What?”

“The town is called Khalil. It is not Hebron.”

This brief conversation occurred on Friday with a colleague of mine. While superficially, the conversation was short and without much substance, it is important to try and connect with the motives behind the words.

As I have mentioned in a previous post, a major front in this conflict between Palestinian and Israeli is the war of names. To Arabs, Jerusalem is Al-Quds. To Jews, Jerusalem is Yerushalayim. To Palestinians, the town I visited is called Khalil. Jews call the town by its biblical name, Hebron.

Hebron/Khalil is significant in the narratives of all three major monotheistic religions. It houses the Tomb of the Patriarchs, where many believe the bones of Abraham reside. At one point in history, King David ruled the city before he came to Jerusalem.

Jews specifically have a complex history with the town. The original community was driven out during the Diaspora, although a group of Spanish Jews resettled in the 16^th century. A tragic event in the early 20^th century, namely the massacre of Jews at the hands of Arab aggressors, left the city empty of a Jewish presence.

In modern Hebron, 4 major settlements comprise the Jewish population, the largest being Qiryat Arba with a population of about 7,000. I use the term “settlement” to refer to a group of Jews living within the West Bank in insular communities protected by the Israeli Defense Force. Settlers are often given tax-breaks by the government, provided with better mortgages and pay the “senior” rates on public transportation. Hebronite settlers of a certain age are also eligible to apply for free weapons (semi-automatic) provided by the Israeli government, incumbent on their passing of a gun certification course. Today, several settler families live in an IDF barracks in Hebron which is a flagrant violation of Israeli law.

My experience in Hebron was entirely depressing. The SCB Fellows (minus Liza who has done this tour already) went with the “Breaking the Silence Tour,” a tour company of former IDF soldiers serving in Hebron who felt compelled to share their stories with anyone who will listen.

The tour started with an introduction by a Palestinian man living in Hebron/Khalil who has seen the effects of violent settlers in the area. Hebron settlers are notoriously violent, and have even attacked tour groups in the past. Due to the potential threat, our group was accompanied by several Israeli police officers throughout the entirety of the trip. This man (as he describes in the video) has had his fields burned by settlers, has seen his car burned by settlers, and has even witnessed an ambulance attacked by settlers as it was carrying an elderly woman from his home.

VIDEO TO COME SOON.

The Breaking the Silence literature describes Hebron as a “ghost town,” and the term is certainly applicable. Internal fighting in Hebron between IDF soldiers and guerilla Palestinians has prompted harsh security measures by the IDF on the Palestinian community. The city is split into two parts; H1 for the Palestinians, and H2 for Jews and the IDF. What was once the main road in Hebron is now entirely empty but for sporadic car traffic and the occasional pedestrian. This road is called a “sterile road,” meaning Palestinians are disallowed from walking on it. The front doors of the Palestinian homes that line the road are welded shut, forcing the residents to use the roof in order to exit.

What was once a bustling Hebron street is now "sterile."

Palestinian home welded shut.

On one occasion, as we stopped to speak about the old market of the city (which was raided by settlers on several occasions until it was closed entirely) a group of settler girls who could have been no older than 10 stopped and listened. Although they likely did not understand much of what was said, they all began to chant in Hebrew “Yehuda, you’re a traitor.” Yehuda was the orthodox Jew who served as our tour guide.

Hebron/Khalil is a physical manifestation of a major reason for the perpetuation of conflict between Israeli Jews and Palestinians. Many religious Jews feel entitled to possess the town of Hebron, and I cannot discredit that sentiment under any circumstances. It is not within my powers as a fellow human to disregard the opinions of another.

I must say, however, that the means by which the Hebronite settlers go about their business is horrendous. These people attempt to attain their goals by infusing violence into the scenario, and prove themselves to be no better than the “terrorists” that we crit

icize so often in our western media. A religious individual, as our Palestinian host noted, is not one who should resort to violent extremism. Religion should bring inner-peace and sanctity. It should not prompt one to spray-paint “Death to the Arabs” on the walls of Hebron.

"Death to the Arabs" written in Hebrew.

The Israeli government also must play a role in restricting the Hebronite settlers. By providing settlers with financial incentives to live in Qiryat Arba rather than in Jerusalem, the government is perpetuating the problem that resides in the further encroachment of settlements on West Bank Palestinian towns. Settlers are rarely prosecuted for their violent actions against the Palestinian communities, and even when they are, the settlers are acquitted or given a slap on the wrist. By creating a strict set of rules to which the settlers must adhere, I believe that some of the tension can be relieved in these areas.

It is impossible to have anything but a vile reaction to seeing this desolate West Bank town. The scars of the conflict rise high above the skin of its streets, and are extremely apparent to all who see its streets and buildings. Please do not mistake my criticism of the settlers as an indication of bias. There is no excuse for the ongoing attacks against IDF soldiers by Palestinian guerillas in Hebron/Khalil. If you take anything from this blog entry, just know that I am simply stating that violence in any form is despicable, and cannot be tolerated.

p.s. Beards of Jerusalem. You know who you are.

Funny Anecdote

2009-06-30T13:57:00.000-07:00

My phone was recently blocked from making outgoing calls. I found it to be frustrating that although I could receive calls and text messages, I could send nothing. After a few non-responses from Pelephone’s customer service email address, I decided to call the toll-free number from a friend’s cell phone.

After waiting 10-minutes for a customer service representative, my call was acknowledged. I asked the reasoning behind my phone’s restriction, and the woman responded with the following: “We noted that your phone had dialed East Jerusalem numbers, and we assumed your phone was stolen.”

“Why didn’t you make me aware of the restriction?”

“We called you twice, sir.” (Seems like a good strategy to contact an individual with a stolen phone)

Finally, my phone was restored to normal capacity, and I was able to check my voicemail. The phone company employee who called stated the following: “Mr. Robinson, we have on record that you have attempted to contact the Palestinian Authority. As a result, we are assuming your phone is stolen, and we are restricting its capacities.”

I don’t really remember ever trying to contact the P.A. I don’t think I have their number.

Bad Omens, Part II

2009-06-30T03:54:00.000-07:00

JONER.

Later that evening, I joined Jonah Seligman and Adam Ross at their apartment for Shabbat. I stopped at a store prior to my arrival, and purchased a bottle of wine and a bottle of vodka for our Shabbat consumption. Within ten minutes of arriving at the apartment, the entire bottle of vodka lay shattered on the linoleum floor sending waves of liquor in every direction. Another guest, who shall remain nameless, accidentally dropped the unopened bottle of vodka. My bad luck persisted. (I also forgot to mention that my toothbrush fell out of my backpack on my walk to the bus in West Jerusalem, a fact that I failed to realize until I needed to brush my teeth.)

Shabbat was a very nice evening, although I was at odds with two of the other guests. Adam had invited two acquaintances who happened to be Brandeis graduates, and former members of the Brandeis Hillel. I described to them the nature of my internship, and they were not amused. As two sheltered Jews living within an insular community (one of the guests bragged that all of his friends throughout his entire life had been Jewish) and considering the decision to make aliyah, they did not know what to make of this kippah-wearing Arab-lover.

During the day on Saturday, Jonah and I decided to attend a tour of the Sheikh Jarrah neighborhood of East Jerusalem facilitated by the Center for Jerusalem Studies within Al-Quds University. The description of the tour in the email referred to the confrontation of the “Israeli military colonization,” so we knew we were in for an interesting afternoon.

The tour left from the Ambassador Hotel, and Jonah and I took a taxi from Damascus Gate up the hill since we were running short on time. Once again, my bad luck came into play. As I exited the cab, my keys fell out of my pocket onto the back seat. I realized this immediately, but the cab had gone too far for me to run it down. My only option was to run back down to Damascus Gate and hope that the cabbie returned to his original spot.

I left Jonah with the tour, and ran back down to the gate. I couldn’t believe it, but within 2 minutes of standing at the cab stand being harassed by the various drivers, my original driver approached me to ask if I needed a taxi. I promptly responded, “No” and added, “But did you just drive me to the Ambassador Hotel?” He nodded, and I explained my situation. He led me to his cab and opened the back door. My keys were lying right where I had left them. I guess my luck was changing.

I caught a bus back up to the Ambassador Hotel, and tracked down the tour group. Jonah mentioned that I missed the tour guide’s explanation of the “nakba” (literally meaning ‘the disaster’) which is a politically charged term referring to the relocation of many Palestinians living within the borders of Israel after 1948. The tour guide also used the term “ethnic cleansing” on various occasions to describe Israeli policy against Palestinians. I personally felt that the use of the term was a gross misapplication and inaccurate.

The tour lasted about two hours, and focused primarily on the history of Sheikh Jarrah, a neighborhood named after Sultan Suleiman’s surgeon who operated on Richard the Lionhearted. The tour guide spoke about the famous Palestinian families of East Jerusalem, the Nashashibi family and the Husseini family. I intended to, although I never had the opportunity to ask her about the Grand Mufti Hajj Amin al-Husseini of the Husseini family.

This man was the primary religious leader in Jerusalem in the early part of the 20^th century, and had numerous meetings with Adolf Hitler. At these meetings, Husseini tried to gain Hitler’s support for establishing an independent Palestinian state in exchange for Palestinian troops for Hitler’s campaign in Russia. These troops, as you can imagine, didn’t last too long in the Russian winter.

The tour culminated in what is known as the “Resistance Tent,” a place that houses various victims of housing demolitions in East Jerusalem who are now considered by the U.N. as IDP’s (internally displaced persons). Within this tent, we were told by the daughter of a “militant” and others about the “evils” of Jewish settlements. A question was posed at one point by a presenter; who is the terrorist, the person who defends his/her land, or the person who kicks people off of their land with military power? The obvious answer to these people was the person who kicks people off of their land, i.e. Israel.

Our tour guide at one point used the term “judaization” in reference to the increasing number of settlements in the Jerusalem neighborhood of Silwan. I intended to ask her if she was familiar with the origins of this word, although I was again not given the opportunity. The term “judaizer” comes from the time of the Inquisition, and is basically the equivalent of a crypto-Jew, one who practices Judaism in private while outwardly practicing Catholicism. The tour guide was not so good at using the correct application of terminology throughout the session.

My experiences on this tour definitely brought to my attention the capacity that exists on either side of the conflict to manipulate words, facts and scenarios to serve a purpose. In Israel, as I have written about before, everything is political. It is impossible to escape the human tendency to apply one’s own personal views or values when interpreting a situation. Any fact or figure that you hear, especially in Jerusalem, is intended to persuade an individual toward one side or the other.

It is also the case, quite often, that these self-serving accounts exist in the omission. For example, while the tour guide spoke of the Husseini family, she failed to mention that he met on multiple occasions with Adolf Hitler. Such omissions exist on the Israeli side as well. A prominent historical event in pre-1948 Israel was the bombing of the King David Hotel. In modern Israel, no one ever mentions that this bombing was carried out by a Zionist terrorist organization called the Irgun, led at one point by Menachem Begin (yes, the same Begin from the Camp David accords).

I spoke about my experiences on the tour with a colleague in the office who is a member of the famous Nashashibi family. We spoke about the use of the term “ethnic cleansing,” and he directed my attention to the events that occurred at Deir Yaseem in 1948. Deir Yaseem was a Palestinian town near Jerusalem that experienced a slaughter of 107 at the hands of the Irgun. I countered with the citation of the 1938 Tiberias Massacre during the Arab Revolt where Palestinians killed 20 Jews near the Sea of Galilee. He said Israel is a terrorist state, and referred to the recent Gaza operation. I can never defend the violence that happened there, but I disagree with the application of the term terrorist state. Yet another example of the power of manipulating terms to serve a purpose.

Bad Omens, Part I

2009-06-29T09:43:00.000-07:00

What I failed to mention in my previous post is the reason behind my abrupt early-morning wakeup. Before falling asleep that evening, I had a cup of tea. Rather than getting up to wash the glass cup, I placed it on my bedside table and left the task for the morning.

I awoke to the sound of shattering glass, which I thought was just an imagined element of my dream. I turned on the light next to my bed and checked the right hand side. No broken glass. I looked to my left. Yep. There it was, the glass cup in hundreds of glorious pieces strewn all over the ground.

When I stepped out of bed to retrieve the garbage can, I noticed a large black dot out of the corner of my eye. A closer, more focused look revealed the spider waiting patiently and motionless. My immediate, 4 am reaction was to blame the spider for the broken glassware. It was my hand that broke the glass, but it was the spider’s presence that invoked the destruction. I quickly reconsidered this position, and thought better of it, but various events throughout the weekend lead me to entertain the possibility of a bad omen.

I woke up several hours later on Friday morning tired from the interruption of my sleep. I went through the motions of getting up, showering, brushing my teeth, getting dressed. As I was packing up my backpack, however, I experienced the first mishap of the weekend. I lifted my backpack from the bed, and from a peripheral pocket fell my external hard drive. It landed with the strongest conviction possible onto the tile floor. It did not sound good. My lament over damage to my external hard drive may sound nerdy, but keep in mind that this piece of hardware contains all of my photos from my Birthright trip. If I am unable to recover the data, I will have lost many of those photos forever.

The day progressed as usual. I sat at my desk and ate some hummus. Read through some ANERA data and pretended to compile it for a survey. I left midway through the day in order to attend a presentation at the Jerusalem headquarters of the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA).

The presentation was only an hour long, but it was informative nonetheless. The lecturer addressed the humanitarian impact of Israeli restrictions on goods entering Gaza, and exports leaving the West Bank. She spoke of the network of transportation within the West Bank, and made the interesting point that there now exists separate highway systems for Israelis and Palestinians. Here are some more facts that I noted during the presentation:

- 80% poverty rate in the Gaza Strip (avg. income $2.8/day)

- 3,000 Gaza housing units destroyed during the 22 day siege in December-January leaving 260,000 Gazans either homeless, or in need of repairing their home (a task impossible with the embargo on construction materials).

- When the Israeli blockade on the West Bank is complete, 126,000 Palestinians will be entirely enclosed by the wall, 360 degrees.

The best part about the presentation, were the free maps that OCHA offers of governorates in the West Bank and in Gaza. They are the most accurate maps to date, and detail every checkpoint and crossing, every settlement and Palestinian village, and they also indicate the territories entitled to each side by the Oslo Agreements.

To be continued...

My Room Mate

2009-06-29T00:40:00.001-07:00

I woke up in the middle of the night to pee. When I went back to bed, I notice this beast on the ground near my desk. I figured, either I can try to take care of this spider at 4am, or I can deal with it tomorrow. Naturally, I decided to deal with it tomorrow.

The spider was in the same spot in the morning, so I took pictures of it. It hid from me when I tried to scoop it up with a jar. That afternoon, however, it was waiting near my door. I chased it out of the room using my book. I continued to herd the spider until it was safely outside. Good karma, right?

Well I proceeded to have some pretty bad luck in the weekend to come, so maybe it was an omen...

My Trip to Ramallah

2009-06-26T02:37:00.001-07:00

Two days ago, I made my first trip across the checkpoints to visit some friends in Ramallah. I can’t say that I knew what to expect, although my experience was much more seamless than I anticipated. I boarded a bus at Damascus Gate in East Jerusalem which, for 6.50 NIS (about $1.60), carried me all the way to Ramallah.

Travelling from the Israeli side of the wall into the West Bank does not require any stopping of the bus. The checkpoint looks very similar to a border crossing. In a way, I felt as if I was passing from Washington into Canada. The border police don’t even check documents as you pass into the West Bank. You simply drive right on through.

The bus dropped me off at the Manara Circle in downtown Ramallah. Again, I’m not sure what I was expecting to see, but downtown looks like any normal Arab city. There are multitudes of people lining the sidewalks, restaurants and businesses abound. Tea vendors stroll the streets ringing their bells and calling for your money. Truthfully, it just looked like a more active version of East Jerusalem, cacophony and all.

I met my friend Sinan when I exited the bus, and we entered a decrepit looking building. Climbing to the top story placed us in a nargileh (hookah) lounge with pictures of Arafat on every wall. There were absolutely no women in this place. A conversation with my colleague Julia the next day revealed to me that women are usually barred from such places due to social convention. At this lounge were my friends Marwan and Hasan, and another Brandeis student.

Our next stop after leaving the lounge was the Ramallah maqaatah, a government property that houses the mausoleum of Yasir Arafat. Outside of the tomb itself is a large statue with a poem by Mahmoud Darwish written in Arabic calligraphy. The tomb is a beautiful stone structure with two guards standing behind it at all times.

A conversation that arose upon leaving the maqaatah brought forth Sinan’s idea that if Arafat were alive today, there would be much more peace between Israel and Palestine. I am personally unable to speculate as to the validity of such a statement, but I do know this; if Arafat were alive today, the Palestinians would be a much more unified group. Arafat is a beloved figure among the majority of the Palestinian community. He was able to manipulate the sentiments of his people, and he would likely keep Hamas in check in Gaza. These conversations are not productive, however, since Arafat is dead.

As the evening progressed, it came time for me to return to Jerusalem. I said goodbye, and boarded a bus right outside of the Manara Circle. The process of crossing back into Israel is slightly more complex. The bus drops the passengers off about 100 yards from the checkpoint. The passengers must then pass through the checkpoint on foot, which requires metal detectors, x-ray machines and a passport scanner.

I did not cross through the checkpoint immediately after exiting the bus. Some graffiti murals that adorned the wall caught my attention, and I approached them in order to get some photos. There were two boys sitting at the wall, who initially requested that I do not take their picture. Eventually, they asked that I take a picture of them. When I complied, they promptly approached me in order to review the image. I was slightly taken aback by their haste, and a sense of fear rushed through me. I was not afraid for my safety, but rather that of the camera. I guess I’m just very protective of that thing.

After snapping a few photos, and avoiding the theft of my equipment, I proceeded to the checkpoint and put my backpack through the x-ray machine. The officer on duty could have cared less about checking my passport, and simply waved me through to what I refer to as the “holding cell.” Basically, once you pass through security, you haven’t completed your visit to the checkpoint. You must subsequently wait for a door to open, and this door is only open for 5 or so minutes at a time. As a result, there is a corridor full of Palestinians trying to get out of the checkpoint compound. I was among that group, and the only white boy in the bunch.

I thoroughly enjoyed my experience in Ramallah, and I know that it will not be my last trip to the West Bank. I will likely be making trips to the various ANERA offices in Nablus, Hebron and Ramallah, and I am scheduled to do various site visits in Jericho in the near future. For those of you who may have the opportunity to visit the West Bank, but feel intimidated by the prospect of doing so, take my account as reassurance. It’s certainly worth the 6.50 NIS.

Diplomacy and the Prospects for Peace

2009-06-24T02:09:00.000-07:00

It is rare to hear of a nation willingly cede land obtained during war. Think back on the Mexican American War. The U.S. more than doubled its land holding with the Mexican Cession, and then manipulated the Mexican government into agreeing to the Gadsden Purchase. It took a comprehensive defeat of the Nazis for Europe to emerge from fascist expansionism after World War II. The list of examples goes on forever, but my point is the following: land almost always must be taken from the “occupier,” and is rarely, if ever, given back willingly.

Now let’s turn back the clock to 1978. Anwar Sadat is the leader of Egypt. Menachem Begin is the Israeli Prime Minister. The two men meet at Camp David and hang out with Jimmy Carter for a while. They drink some tea, do some diplomacy, and there you have it, Israeli-Egyptian peace, also known as The Camp David Accords.

We jump forward a few months to 1979, and Sadat and Begin are signing a treaty known as the Israel-Egypt Peace Treaty. Excuse me, what? These are the same two countries that have been quarrelling since 1948? Didn’t Israel preemptively strike in 1967 and hose the Egyptian military? Wasn’t it former Egyptian leader Gamel Abdel Nasser who initiated the creation of the PLO? So now they’re friends, but on a certain condition. That Israel return control of the Sinai Peninsula to Egypt.

This condition was not a gift of land, it was a land cession. Israel decided that controlling the Sinai Peninsula was less gratifying that forging peace with the most influential state in the Arab world. Remember I mentioned the 1967 war? That was the war that allowed Israel to control the Sinai Peninsula in the first place. In addition, Israel won the Gaza Strip from Egypt, the West Bank from Jordan and the Golan Heights from Syria. Let’s also not forget the Israeli capital of Jerusalem, which was previously controlled by Jordan.

My first point is that Israel made an unprecedented move in giving back land that came out of a hostile encounter. Put the United States in Israel’s place. I’m sure most American presidents would throw a couple fingers in the direction of Egypt if they wanted their land back. Israel, however, made a concession, and did so in the name of peace.

The next point is more of a criticism of Israel’s decision making than a commendation; why not give Gaza back too? I wasn’t alive at that point in time, and I’m obviously not able to speak from an Israeli perspective, but I think that Israel had illusions of grandeur, a type of Manifest Destiny if you will. A common phrase espoused by some Palestinian nationalists is “From the river to the sea,” a reference to the land that stretches from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean Sea. This area includes the West Bank, Israel and Gaza. I guess the Israelis at that point in time had a similarly philosophy regarding territory.

Jump forward to 2005, Israel removes all Jewish settlements from Gaza and cedes the entirety of that land to the Palestinian people. Again, a rare occurrence where land obtained through war is willfully given up (granted, I acknowledge that the Palestinians did not control Gaza prior to 1967, although Egypt wasn’t going to take Gaza back at this point). This is not a result of any Camp David Accords. Israel is not promised peace in return. Some criticize Ariel Sharon’s decision to evacuate Gaza, but it seemed to be a genuine step in the direction of peace. The only thing that the Gaza pull-out accomplished, however, was the facilitation of a closer range of fire for rockets entering Israeli towns like S’derot and Ashdod.

This brings us to 2008. Israel devastates the Gaza strip with a 22-day siege as a response to Gazan rocket fire on Israeli towns. I will be the first to admit that the siege was a radically disproportionate response to the typically ineffective attacks from Gaza. However, to understand the Israeli perspective on the issue is a very complex matter. Place yourself in S’derot, a town continually brutalized by rockets. You wake up in the middle of the night to rockets exploding on your streets. People you know are injured or killed. You cannot live a comfortable, peaceful life for fear of being struck by a rocket at any given moment.

Thus, Israel attacks Gaza. Some may blame Sharon for his lack of foresight. Some may blame Israel in general for overreacting. Some may blame Hamas for turning a gesture of peace into an opportunity to exploit closer range on Israeli towns. Those who should not be blamed, however, are the civilians in Gaza, who now live in conditions more destitute than before the siege. The poverty rate in Gaza is a striking 80%, and the unemployment rate is near 50% (both figures come from the UN OCHA). The worst part is that there is no capacity to rebuild Gaza. For fear of smuggling weapons into the strip, Israel has placed significant restrictions on materials entering Gaza. These restrictions include but are not limited to construction materials. There is no rebuilding is Gaza.

A quick tangent about the lack of materials in Gaza; I am proud to say that the organization for which I work has implemented an emergency relief response program in Gaza to accomplish several goals. The program deals with the recycling of plastic used in the process of farming. This plastic is generally discarded, but with the dearth of raw materials entering Gaza, ANERA employs locals to collect plastic for purposes of recycling. Not only are these unemployed Gazans receiving temporary employment, ANERA is stimulating the economy by infusing money into the populace, and also giving work to a local plastic recycling plant that is nearly shut down for lack of purpose. A side note: our organization, as a recipient of USAID money, is obligated to work outside of the municipal governments which are often controlled by Hamas. We do not collaborate with Hamas.

I would now like to speculate on the trend that Israel has established in ceding these parcels of land in exchange for peace. Bibi’s speech on June 14^th acknowledged the right to a sovereign, yet demilitarized, Palestinian state. However, he also noted that settlements in the West Bank would continue normal activities, which likely includes further expansion into the territory.

Bibi does not want to be the new Ariel Sharon by pulling out of “Judea and Samaria.” He doesn’t want his concessions for peace to come bite him in the ass the way the Gaza pull-out did to Sharon, prompting a siege on the scale of “Cast-Lead.” Israel cannot afford to destroy West Bank infrastructure in the vein of the recent attack on Gaza. It would ruin any possibility for future peace.

This prospect also prompts the thought, if Jordan still controlled the West Bank, how willing would they be to give up that land to the Palestinian people? Jordan has the largest population of Palestinians outside of the West Bank. At one point, King Hussein was recognized by many as the leader of the Palestinians. However, Palestinians are abused in Jordanian society. Palestinians are unable to rise above a certain rank within the Jordanian army. They are treated as second class citizens. I highly doubt that Jordan would make such concessions for the sake of establishing an independent Palestine. I’m no expert on Jordanian politics, but as I said, Israel’s cession of land is a very rare historical occurrence.

To wrap all of these musings up into one big conclusion, I would like to say that Israel is clearly not opposed to making peace. The government, on more than one occasion, has make concessions to its “enemies” for the sake of forging some fruitful dialogue, but what Israel has learned is that such concessions can be counterproductive. I am in full support of the establishment of an independent Palestinian state, and I think that state should include the entirety of the West Bank. I haven’t made my mind up about Jerusalem, but before Israel is to ever evacuate Jews from the West Bank, there must be a peace agreed upon by both Israel and the Palestinian people. For now, Israel must control its settlers and make sure that there is nothing to prompt a third Intifada.

An Undivided Capital, and a Response to Adam

2009-06-23T01:30:00.000-07:00

I walk nearly every day from the Damascus Gate, a prominent part of East Jerusalem, to Zion Square, a landmark in West Jerusalem. Crossing onto Jaffa Road represents a multifaceted shift for the pedestrian. From one moment to another, the experience of passing the chaos of an Arab market transitions into a calm Israeli neighborhood.

Jaffa Road, while a major street, is entirely gentrified with bagel chains and an Aroma coffee shop as its major characteristics. Israelis wait patiently at the designated bus stops for their Egged buses to take them further into West Jerusalem. Orthodox Jewish parents push strollers down the sidewalk.

Damascus Gate, on the other hand, is teeming with activity. Vendors shout prices in every direction. Arab women sit on milk crates selling what looks to me as maple leafs (although I have yet to see a maple tree). Children chase one another across the street, just nearly dodging the speeding traffic. And as I have described in a previous post, the Arab buses are not orderly.

The contrast between the two areas that are separated by a 10 minute walk is striking. I feel as if I have crossed from one distinct municipality to another. The cultures that exist in each respective part of Jerusalem are representative of the populations that exist there. It will be hard to find someone to argue against the position that East Jerusalem is known as the “Arab half” of Jerusalem, whereas West Jerusalem is undoubtedly Jewish. I rode the bus down the Mount of Olives, and I could not help but notice that I was the only Jew on board.

East Jerusalem, however, remains a part of the Israeli capital. This truth was reaffirmed on June 14^th in Prime Minister Netanyahu’s speech at Bar Ilan University. Jerusalem will remain the undivided capital of Israel.

This statement seemed to come as a surprise to many. If you live in Jerusalem, however, or have visited the city in your lifetime, you would have known this to be the truth without Bibi having to spell it out for you. The walk that I described in the early part of this post follows from Damascus Gate up to Jaffa Road. Now this walk is made to be slightly more difficult than necessary because of the exorbitant amount of construction that these roads are experiencing.

The construction is not road repair; it consists of the placement of street-car tracks that travel from East to West Jerusalem and back. The city of Jerusalem has obviously invested quite a few Israeli tax shekels into the implementation of this transport system. As I understand the project, it is to be quite extensive and allow for travel throughout the city of Jerusalem. The municipality is saying to everyone living in Jerusalem, East and West, that this is one city under Israeli control. Feel free to travel it on our Israeli street-car.

Another, more subtle indication of Israel’s intention to control the entirety of Jerusalem resides in the road signs on the highway from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. For those who are unaware, every street sign and road sign in Israel is written in three languages: Hebrew, English and Arabic. Throughout the ride between Israel’s two largest cities, I couldn’t help but notice that Jerusalem was spelled in Arabic as “Yerushalayim,” which is an Arabic transliteration of the Hebrew word for Jerusalem. The sign read “Jerusalem” in English.

I guess my naïveté got the better of me, and I was surprised to read “Yerushalayim” in Arabic rather than seeing the Arabic word for Jerusalem, which is “Al-Quds.” The signs are a political statement on the part of the Israelis: “We’ll accommodate your language, but this is Yerushalayim. Don’t even think about calling it Al-Quds.”

This thought brought me back to a conversation I had with my colleague yesterday in my office. We were running through the various documents that she had left for me to read in her absence, and the website for the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs came up. I simply stated that I read much of the information on the website to have a leftist slant, and to be painting Israeli authorities as the aggressor.

I’m not ignorant, I know that much of the world shares this position with the UN OCHA, but I was surprised to see a UN group to maintain such bias, especially on an official website. Her response was the following; that although we would like to believe that it is possible for political neutrality to exist when it comes to the Arab/Zionist conflict, everyone will inevitably have biases. We all have thoughts and feelings about this contentious issue, and no matter how hard we try to remove ourselves from these sentiments, they will shine through nonetheless. Everything in Israel, and especially in Jerusalem, is inherently political. From the construction projects to the road signs, all things purvey partisanship.

I would like to take this moment as an opportunity to respond to Adam Greenblatt’s comment on my recent post entitled “Talkin’ Generation-X Jews: The Post-Modern Approach.” Adam brings up a great point in that as Americans, we have the unique “luxury” of looking at the Arab/Zionist conflict from the perspective of an outsider. Even as a Zionist with a predisposed bias in favor of Israel, we as Americans can still look at this issue beyond the dichotomous definition espoused by that Israeli settler who I described as “not the brightest bulb.” Our affiliations are based less on survival, and more on politics.

Also, Adam, you’re right that I should be more careful when discussing these issues. In my defense, I wasn’t targeting that man as not the “brightest bulb” because of his opinions, but more because throughout the evening, he demonstrated to me his limited intellectual capacities. However, I do agree with you that his life was shaped in a very different way than ours, one where Arabs were likely posited as the enemy. His tribal approach should be considered a product of his environment, where he was trained to maintain his way of life by seeing the world as “us” or “them.”

Please also keep in mind that “Palestinians” as a whole are not the enemy of democracy. A small group of extremists who resort to means of violence to espouse their political agenda do not represent the entirety of the Palestinian population. Most of the Palestinians I have spoken to desperately want peace and justice and democracy. The avenues for accomplishing this goal, however, are clogged by dogmatism on both sides of the conflict.

P.S. Here is a link to the UN OCHA website: http://www.ochaopt.org/

Also, check out Shai Feldman and Dr. Khalil Shikaki's essay on Obama's options regarding the Israeli/Palestinian conflict from the Crown Center publication: http://www.brandeis.edu/crown/publications/meb/MEB32.pdf

My Thoughts on Iran

2009-06-21T23:57:00.001-07:00

The Obama administration has finally issued a public statement addressing the ongoing violence purveyed by the Iranian government against its people. The president’s words are available at this URL: http://www.politico.com/politico44/perm/0609/statement_on_iran_10a1f69f-8297-4975-8b30-3f06d131c71e.html.

Although I am satisfied with the administration’s willingness to take a stance on the harsh repression of the Iranian people, I am slightly unnerved by the amount of time that has passed since the election. Originally, the Obama group was hesitant to weigh its own hand regarding this issue. I see this as an attempt to refrain from falling into the same interventionist pattern that has too often characterized the American presidency. For that, I commend the president.

Obama rationalized his hands-off approach to this crisis, however, by keeping the doors open to dialogue and diplomacy with the Iranian government. Iran, while a potential nuclear threat in the future, has lost some of its edge in the world community. Low oil prices have limited Iran’s income. This situation has also indicated a relative loss of legitimacy among Iran’s leaders, especially among its own people.

While I advocate Obama’s stance on diplomacy with Iran, I feel that this goal should be secondary to the administration’s approval of the Iranian government’s actions. There is a reason why the United States does not deal directly with Omar al-Bashir, the war-criminal president of Sudan. Just because an administration retains power within its own borders does not require the world community to recognize its legitimacy.

An abusive government such as that of Ayatollah Khomeini and Mahmoud Ahmedinajad should not have the opportunity to hold diplomatic relations with the free world. Until these “leaders” shape up and respect the right of the people to express discontent, Obama should disregard his stance of diplomacy toward Iran.

p.s. Tom Friedman has a great piece on the Moussavi supporters. Check it out here: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/21/opinion/21friedman.html?_r=1

Jerusalem of Gold

2009-06-21T14:56:00.000-07:00

I love taking the bus in Jerusalem. I say this having only taken the Israeli “Egged” bus once, but I rely on the “Al-Quds” buses that run in East Jerusalem and the West Bank. I take the 75 almost daily. Not only is it cheap, but it runs so frequently, that I often question the ability of the bus company to remain solvent. There is no time table on which these buses run. They come and go with the rest of the traffic.

There are no bus stops for these buses. Let me rephrase; there are bus stops, although they are a negligible part of the bus infrastructure. No one uses the bus stops to get onto the buses. Passengers have the ability to wave the bus down like a taxi and get on or off at any point throughout the course of the bus’ trip. This system is very user friendly, although it cannot be the most efficient method.

There are no capacity limits on these buses. Keep in mind, many of the Al-Quds buses look like the mini-buses that we use in the states, they aren’t normal sized passenger buses. Regardless, the buses are so widely used that the aisles double as a standing room. I was a standing passenger today, and I was concerned that the bumpy nature of the bus ride would send me into the lap of some old hijab clad woman. I didn’t want to cause anyone to violate the Muslim tenet that holds inter-gender contact as haram, or forbidden. Therefore, I braced myself with a wide stance, and leaned against the back of another chair. Laysa mooshkila, no problem.

My experience with the bus system has been so far seamless. My only qualm resides in the time frame within which the buses function. Every evening, 7 days a week, the Al-Quds buses stop running at 10pm. Only my parents go to bed at 10pm! And even at that point, they’re still watching Letterman. Therefore, if I want to get home in the evening I have to pay for a taxi to get up the Jabal al-Zetoon. Luckily, I’ve made friends with a taxi driver who is consistently outside of Damascus Gate. We’ve worked out a deal, and I’ve made it clear to him that I will refuse to pay the rip-off prices that he charges to gringos. He teaches me a little Arabic, I pay him a few shekels and there I am, home sweet home.

Jerusalem is a spectacular city, and a city that is very easily travelled by foot. In the day, I have no problem walking from the Machaneh Yehuda, a shuk near Jaffa Rd. all the way down to Damascus Gate where I pick up my bus. One observation about pedestrians, however, is their hesitancy to jay-walk. For a culture that is so impatient in most aspects of life, Israelis will rarely dare to cross the street in defiance of the red, standing man. In fact, if they catch you doing so, they will start to yell at you. It’s a concept that I am still trying to grasp, but I’ll get back to you with more musings if I come up some.

My first weekend as an independent Jerusalemite was very enjoyable, and very relaxing. Much of Jerusalem, with the exception of East Jerusalem, is silent on Shabbat. No buses, a few taxis, and even fewer cars. No businesses are open. Hardly any pedestrians venture out into the street. As a friend observed, Jerusalem is like the country-side on Shabbat. It is silent. However, Sunday is a normal day in Israeli society. The hustle and bustle of normal Jerusalem life exists in full force on Sundays.

It is only a matter of time before I absorb these cultural adjustments. After visiting Japan in 2005, I recall bowing to people in the United States long after returning home. I am unable to pinpoint what aspects of Israeli/Arab culture will stick with me after my return home. For now, I am just enjoying the unique intricacies that make Jerusalem one of the greatest cities on the planet (and one worth fighting for).

Talkin' Generation-X Jews; The Post-Modern Approach

2009-06-19T00:09:00.000-07:00

Brandeis students learn all about "dichotomy" in our painstaking ventures through the mandatory writing seminars. I remember a few weeks into school, I started hearing the word tossed around by pretentious 'Deisians attempting to sound oh-so-cultured. Dichotomy was not a foriegn concept to these students, but for some reason, learning an esoteric word helped to bring the idea into a new light. Dichotomies became a convention against which these young academics felt compelled to rebel, suggesting a postmodern awareness.

My American generation (we've been dubbed Generation-X) has come of age in a world that defies dichotomies. I first became aware of the acronym GLBT (Gay, Lesbian, Bi, Transgender) when I was in middle school. Here I was, a 12-year-old boy presented with 4 ways to define sexuality beyond the dichotomy. Later, when I entered college, I heard people tagging on a "Q" to stand for queer. Thus, a fifth. My parents' generation really only knew straight and straight, and maybe the occasional gay, but no one talked about it.

Here's another example which applies most specifically to Jews. Travelling around Israel on Taglit-Birthright leaves you subject to their agenda. I'm not saying I entirely disagree with the ideas presented to the groups, but the program drills into your mind the importance of marrying Jewish, and having Jewish children. "Intermarriage is the number one cause for the world's loss of Jews." How many times have young Jews, especially young American Jews heard this story? Well here I sit, in Israel, the product of an interfaith marriage, and I can safely say, that almost half of my Jewish friends also come from interfaith marriages. America's Jews are growing up in a world of "Chrismakkah," where religion looks more like a Venn Diagram than a dichotomy.

Generation X's understanding of dichotomies resides primarily in our concept that dichotomies are a thing of the past and must be defied at any cost. We've seen the convention, and we can recognize a dichotomy when we see one. Merriam-Webster would call that postmodern.

Our postmodern world places American Jews (or, Jewish-Americans, however you prefer) of Generation X in a unique position, especially in our concept of Israel. I had a conversation last night with a man in which I told him my business in Israel. He responded, "Oh, so you're a Palestinian supporter?" I found myself jumping to respond "No!" but I held back that reaction and said, "Well it depends how you mean Palestinian supporter. I consider myself a Zionist, but that does not mean I do not recognize the humanitarian crisis that characterizes the situation of the Palestinian people."

The only thing this guy got out of my statement was "Oh, you're a Zionist. That's good." Granted, he lives on a settlement in the West Bank, and didn't seem to be the brightest bulb, but I noticed that to him, Israel is about this side or that side, Zionist or Palestinian supporter. There is no middle ground for him.

This scenario for me embodies the unique situation of American Jews of Generation X. We have the luxury of growing up in a society that actively defies and consistently redefines dichotomies. It's O.K. to be a Zionist, Palestinian supporter. In fact, it is our duty as the generation of Obama to bring to the world a renewed sense of unity.

The criticism of Brandeis liberals is that we are too often naive and optimistic. However, in a time of crisis, the world needs optimism and healing, not division. Defy the divisive rhetoric of the past generations. They may have come a long way as far as civil rights are concerned, but they don't know what it's like to chip away at dichotomies. It is our job to teach the world how to do this thing that is inherent to our upbringing.

"The Challenges we Face"

2009-06-18T02:16:00.000-07:00

I've seen this sign all over the place here in Jerusalem. Also a graffiti tag saying, "Obama is an Arab Nigger" which was later changed to "Obama loves Hizbullah and Hamas."

Ok, so I know I’m a few weeks late on this topic, but I just watched Obama’s address to Cairo University in its entirety this morning, and as with most Obama speeches, I’m impressed. He entered the stage to a remarkable ovation, to which he responded “Shukran,” the Arabic word for “Thank you.” He then proceeded to address the audience with the words “al-Salaam Aleikum” which is a common phrase used among Arabs to mean, “Peace be with you.” I could be wrong, but I find this to be an unprecedented moment in politics, where the President of the United States of America reaches out to the Muslim world with such dignity.

The President proceeded to quote the Koran on three different occasions, the final time accompanying quotations from both the Talmud and the Christian Bible. He cited his experiences in Indonesia, as a student in a majority Muslim nation (Indonesia is home to the most Muslims of any country in the world). He also referred to his own familial ties to the religion of Islam, using his middle name as an example.

To many Americans, and particularly, to many American Jews, Obama’s actions may seem like cause for concern. In speaking to fellow Jews throughout the presidential election last November, I heard an inherent distrust among many. There is a common sentiment among American Jews that Democrats are not strong enough supporters of Israel. Thus, you have a historically liberal, Democratic demographic leaning to the right, simply for the sake of Israel. I am by no means discrediting this stance. I myself am a strong supporter of the state of Israel, and find it to be an important issue when I consider my vote. However, I am confident enough in the strength of the American Jewish community through groups such as AIPAC to maintain my sense of Zionism, while critiquing the often flagrant policies of the Israeli government.

Obama is no dummy, however, and spoke directly to this group in his Cairo speech. He affirmed America’s support for the Jewish state and recounted his understanding of the tumultuous past of the Jewish people. He also spoke of the anti-Semitic hate speech that resides in the words of Holocaust deniers. Denying the Holocaust, stated Obama, is “baseless, ignorant and hateful.” Ignorance is not power.

Although Obama’s words were in strong support of Israel, many conservative Jews feel threatened by Obama’s stance on settlements in the West Bank, that being primarily that they must cease to exist (an opinion that I agree with as well, and one that will lead us down a path of peace). An Israeli right-wing group served to manifest these sentiments with their promotion of the sign displayed above depicting Obama as a modern day Arafat. It is fanatical Jewish groups like these that caused the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin. It is Jews like these who protested the rally celebrating the 60^th anniversary of Israel that I witnessed in Montreal last May. It’s Jews such as these who attend Holocaust denying conventions in Tehran among the likes of David Duke. These Jews impede peace as much as Hamas.

In closing, I was obviously quite moved by Obama’s words. While I do not place him on a pedestal, and see him as a cure-all drug for the world’s ills, he has demonstrated to me a unique quality. This quality resides in his capacity to unify disparate groups in times of desperation. He inspires people to behave civilly, and carries a message of unity, rather than of factionalism. When I travelled abroad during the Bush presidency, I was careful about my admission of my nationality. It wasn’t safe to say “I am an American.” Yesterday, I was sitting in a nargileh spot in the widely Palestinian populated East Jerusalem. When asked my nationality, I proudly declared “Ana Amreekee/I am American.”

It’s an interesting time to be in the Middle East. Obama came here, now Carter is here, the elections in Iran… I’m glad to be here, and I’m learning so much about how important it is to have a strong, positive force in the driver’s seat back home in America.

From the top of Jabal al-Zetoon

2009-06-16T09:31:00.001-07:00

So I trekked the mountain twice in two days. In reality, it was only once and half, but the "half" was uphill. The Augusta Victoria Hospital is located at the very top of the Mount of Olives, or as the Arabs call it, Jabal al-Zetoon. The ANERA office is located at the bottom of the Mount of Olives. Therefore, the logic goes as follows; I walk down in the morning, I hike up in the afternoon.

This morning I stepped into the office for my second day on the job at ANERA. Robert wasn't lying, I do have my own desk. They even gave me a laptop to use for the summer, although it's very, very slow. I'll stick with my own. They will also give me a cell phone, but I have yet to receive it.

My shirt was drenched with sweat, because believe it or not, it's hot in Jerusalem in the morning. My walk down the hill was pretty pleasant thanks to the vocals of Black Francis of The Pixies. It's nice morning music, I'd say.

So far, my job has been a little bit uneventful. Other than getting to know the staff around the office, my only tasks have been to familiarize myself with the various ANERA projects that occur in both the West Bank and in Gaza. The most extensive program by far is called the EWAS (Emergency Water and Sanitation) which is dedicated to bringing clean water and proper sewage systems to impoverished towns throughout what the UN deems as the oPt (occupied Palestinian territories). I don't know what my role will be in the office quite yet, but I'm sure the work will pick up soon.

I had to prepare a presentation this afternoon on a program facilitated by the Palestinian Authority called QIF (Quality Improvement Fund). This is a fund that administers government funds to applicants in the sector of tertiary education who attempt to improve the quality of such education within the Palestinian community. I will present my findings in due time.

Everyone in the office seems very nice. They are all very welcoming, but do they know I'm Jewish? The IT guy Amjad today asked me if I was a Muslim in context with a conversation about my Arabic studies. I responded with a quick "no." I know my boss, Robert, is aware of my participation in the Birthright trip. He showed me an article today in the Jerusalem Post that reported 15 American Jews from Taglit quarantined in Israeli hospitals because of Swine Flu. Thank goodness I'm not locked up in a hospital.

Anyway, I will certainly report back when I encounter some interesting stuff. For now, I will just show you the view from up top the Jabal al-Zetoon. (See top)

The Doors are Locked

2009-06-13T23:11:00.000-07:00

The drive between Israel's two most prominent cities takes less than an hour. It is impossible to conceptualize an Israeli suburb, simply because once you've effectively left the urban place, you've almost immediately entered another.

Jonah and I hitched a ride to Jerusalem from Tel Aviv/Herzliyah. Our hitching was a much more controlled version of the image that just flashed through your mind (you know, the one where we stand on the side of the highway with our thumbs out). Our buddy Tomer, with whom we were staying in Herzliyah, had another guest from Jerusalem. This man was a friend of Tomer's from his military unit, and came to share Shabbat with his buddy. Conveniently, this man decided to return home precisely at the time we wished to leave for Jerusalem. He obliged to drive us.

We paid for a cab from the city outskirts to Jonah's new apartment. The cab driver had to stop once to ask for directions, but found it quickly afterward, no harm done. The true challenges occurred when we stepped out of the taxi.

Jonah's landlord had written the address as 5 Ben Yefouneh St., which is where the taxi let us off. We stepped onto the front porch with our luggage, only to have a blinding light projected in our direction accompanied by the suspicious voice of a little old lady. "M'daber anglit? [Do you speak English?]" "Ken, what do you want?" Jonah proceeded to explain his situation, and the lady opened her front door stared us down.

She was about 5 feet tall with a cigarette draping from her lips, her dark brown eyes penetrated the glass of her purple spectacles. "Maybe you go around back. More apartment in back. I come help you. This here is not your place."

We proceeded to lug our luggage (a term that I have recently realized to be both ironically haughty and extremely apropos) up a flight of stairs, followed by Jonah trying his luck with the two apartments in the back. No luck.

"Maybe across street you try."

We lugged our luggage back down that flight, and I waited with the bags with our old lady friend as Jonah probed the area. He came back confused, citing a conversation with a man with limited English skills saying to use another door.

Jonah began to walk around the back of the building despite the assurances of our old lady friend that no door exists in the back. While he was out of our sight, she affixed her concern over Jonah's choices. "What does he do in the back of that building? No door lives there. He wastes time." My simple response was, "I dunno. He must be onto something."

I even tried to change the subject, telling her about my Birthright trip, etc. but she continually came back to the topic of Jonah defying her advice. I gave up.

Just then, a car with a young couple with American accents rolled up to 5 Ben Yefouneh St. Our little old lady friend proceeded to explain the situation to these people who subsequently turned to me to ask the scenario. Jonah was on the phone and walking around in front of the building across the street, too engulfed in his own problems to entertain the curiosities of these two people. I had no information to share with them, since I was just a boarder at Jonah's place for the evening.

When Jonah was off the phone, all three people (little old lady, and the couple) flocked to Jonah and began bombarding him with questions and advice. There were hands pointing in every direction of the street, and each person had a hand on the small Google Map. I was just perched on a cement wall watching our bags, and even more so, watching this scene.

Finally, it was decided that the non-English speaking advisor was right in the beginning. There was another door to the second half of the apartment, Ben Yefouneh 4b. All three of Jonah's helpers followed in a row as he entered the building. They waited outside of the gate, and I heard someone yell "He turned on the light!" Needless to say, they were more excited than I was to find the apartment. It's a testament to Israeli hospitality.

After checking out the apartment (which is very nice) for a bit, Jonah and I went out to get some food. We found a pizza restaurant down the street, and walked back immediately afterward. When we placed the key in the keyhole, however, the lock stuck. "This didn't happen last time." I tried to do it. No luck.

An apartment below opened, and Jonah sprinted with the word "Shalom." A fat man trudged up the stairs to try his luck. No can do. "Fuck." I sat in the stairwell, my head on my palm, trying to rest. "I guess we gotta call a locksmith."

To make a short story longer, the locksmith came relatively promptly. I guess all we needed was some WD-40, because he got us right in after applying that stuff. Unfortunately, the ease of our entrance did not knock down the 400 NIS price of his arrival.

CHECK OUT THE NEW SCB WEBSITE!!!

2009-06-12T10:45:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the hard work of our founding director Justin Kang, SCB has just published its new website. Check it out, and if you can, donate to our cause!

http://www.studentscrossingboundaries.com/

Shalom from Herzliyyah

2009-06-12T09:30:00.000-07:00

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I realize that I have been far from diligent with my updating of this blog. Over the course of my Israel trip, I have slept very little, and have had even less internet access. Birthright trips aren't about sleeping, or staying savvy to contemporary issues. The point of the trip is to remove yourself from the familiar world and to become enamored with Israel, the land, it's people, etc.

I had too many experiences over the course of the last 10 days to recount each one. I saw so much of this country, from the Golan Heights to Eilat, from S'fat to Arad. We were in the mountains, and the desert. I swam in 3 different seas, and rode a camel. I saw the sunrise on top of Mossada. An incredible journey.

Well the trip is over, and now I'm free. I find myself in the home of our friend Tomer, an Israeli soldier who accompanied us on the bus. He offered Jonah Seligman and I a place to sleep for the night before we head out to Jerusalem tomorrow. By tomorrow I, however, basically mean Sunday since no buses run between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem on Shabbat.

My internship with ANERA begins on Monday. I spoke to my boss, Robert Crothers, this morning, and he said they already have a giant pile of work for me on my desk. My response was "I have a desk?" I found it exciting to have a desk in an office. It's a big step for me. I can't wait to get to work on that pile.

Until next time,

Steve

p.s. I love you too, Mom and Dad.

Welcome

2009-05-14T14:58:00.000-07:00

Hello, and welcome to my blog. I will regularly update the posts as a venue to recount my experiences traveling in Israel and the West Bank throughout my 71 day stint in the Holy Land. Here's a little background about myself, and my purposes for traveling:

My name is Stephen Robinson, and I am a 20 year old student at Brandeis University with majors in Politics and Islamic and Middle Eastern Studies (IMES) along with a minor in Hispanic Studies. I have spent the last two years at Brandeis studying the intricate grammar and structure of the Arabic language while attempting to absorb the diverse range of views that exist on the campus regarding the Middle East, and more specifically, Israel/Palestine.

My interest in the Middle East began upon my arrival at Brandeis when I enrolled in Hebrew language courses. I never attended a single class, instead switching to the Arabic department. My choice was motivated by logical, travel rationale; more countries in the world speak Arabic than Hebrew. If I am to travel, I thought, Arabic will be of much more use.

In the Summer of 2008 (last summer), I was selected to be a part of an ongoing relationship between Brandeis and Al-Quds University, a prominent Palestinian institution in Al-Quds/Jerusalem/Yerushalayim. Along with a group of my peers, I traveled to Istanbul on dollar of the Ford Foundation in order to convene with a group of Palestinian students from Al-Quds. This experience was very influential in my conceptualization of the Middle East, and led me to understand the complex narrative considered by Benny Morris as the Zionist/Arab conflict.

Over the course of a two-week, paid vacation in Istanbul, we students were charged with the task of communicating with one another (a pretty simple task considering the entirety of the Palestinian group was proficient in English). Our group formed very strong ties on personal and intellectual levels. We spent a mandatory, daily session discussing texts selected by our fabulous professors, and spent the rest of the time enjoying ourselves. I gained many new friends in Palestinian Muslims, a Palestinian Christian, a Palestinian Muslim with Israeli documents, American Jews, Israeli Jews, American Christians... We were a pretty diverse group.

This tremendous experience led me in the Fall of 2008 to apply for a travel grant facilitated by the Carter Center (yes, Jimmy Carter's Carter Center) through a Brandeis organization called Students Crossing Boundaries (hence the name of the blog). The purpose of this grant is to enable Brandeis students to travel to the "conflict zone" within Israel/Palestine in order to get a first-hand perspective beyond the lens of the media.

Upon my selection for this grant, I immediately pursued an internship with a prominent American NGO, American Near East Refugee Aid (ANERA). ANERA has a main office in Washington D.C., with its main office abroad in East Jerusalem. Most of their aid initiatives deal with humanitarian focused relief in the West Bank and in Gaza. My efforts came to fruition when I was offered an internship under Robert Crothers, the Middle East Representative for ANERA's Jerusalem office.

I am extremely enthusiastic about the impending experiences that await me. I will travel throughout the West Bank with my supervisor Robert Crothers to view, firsthand, the realities of strife. I will see poverty, depravity, depression. But as I know from my experience in Istanbul, while those living in the West Bank are certainly deprived, they are also resiliant. With luck, I will reunite with many of my friends from my Istanbul trip, visiting their homes in Bethlehem and Ramallah.

As Thomas Friedman states, "a Jew who wants to make a career working in or studying about the Middle East will always be a lonely man: he will never be fully accepted or trusted by the Arabs, and he will never be fully accepted or trusted by the Jews." I have no idea about my career right now, but I do know that I love studying the Middle East. I guess for now, I'm a cultural vagabond in the vein of Friedman. However, as we all know from Kerouac, everyone loves a vagabond. So read on...