Friday, July 31, 2015

Grumbles and Giggles

Yesterday at a gay pride parade in downtown Jerusalem, a Jewish extremist (who has stabbed and wounded others in an attack ten years ago - he was recently released from prison) stabbed six people. Two of them were seriously injured, but none of them died.

I heard about this stabbing while I sat in little Arab restaurant with two of my good Palestinian friends. While we sat catching up on our lives, Nermeen received a phone call from her mom, checking in. She had heard that a Palestinian man had stabbed six Jews - but didn't know the details.

I had met my friends for dinner an hour and a half late. I arrived at 8 for a 6:30 dinner appointment. My bus, which I had left my house at 5:45 to take, didn't arrive until well after 6:30. I had no idea what could be delaying it, but about 6:25, I began to hear festive Klezmer music (Eastern European Jewish music - you can listen to it here, should you be interested). After a few minutes, I suspected it was getting louder, and indeed, by about 6:40, I could distinctly hear an accordion. I assumed it was some sort of festival or concert, but it continued to get louder. By 6:45, I saw a big motorhome-type vehicle, decorated with bright colors and blasting music, inching down the road, from the direction of my missing bus. Nothing could get past that road-block. Behind it, moving ever so slowly down the road, was a group of perhaps 50 Orthodox Jews, men and boys in their black suits accented with white shirts and dark, curled earlocks, dancing in circles (essentially this consists of a kind of jogging forward to the rhythm, while holding hands with the others in the circle, raising and lowering them together as they sing exultantly). Some of the men held little girls, but the rest of the female groupies followed behind in skirts and long sleeves, pushing strollers.

Painted on the side of the big motor home was "Welcome King Messiah" - in Hebrew, of course. I really don't know what messianic movement this is, so I've been doing some research to figure it out. I know there are a few that have sprung up in Hasidic circles in recent decades, and I'm not sure if this is one of those, and why they're welcoming this king messiah...I'll get back to you on this.

In any case, these joyous dancers remained stationed at the corner of the street, entirely uncaring of my growing angst over being so late. I may have found this little spectacle charming, or at least quirky and interesting. Instead, I found myself growing almost angry. But finally a police woman directed them to turn the corner (some other people's problem!), the bus squeezed through the mass of honking cars, and I was on my way.

Ha! After only a few minutes, on a bus full of irritated passengers on their phones apologizing for their extreme tardiness, the bus came to a halt again, behind another train of cars. For ten minutes, we inched forward. I had no idea what the hold up was, but a paramedic motorcycle sped by (paramedic motorcycle - isn't that a fantastic idea! In cities with crowded streets, it is literally a lifesaver!), followed by a full-on ambulance, which took a lot of time and maneuvering, as several buses had to try to squeeze to the side to let it pass.

Finally, when the bus approached an actual stop, I took the opportunity of jumping off and walking - certainly I would get there faster that way!

I'm sure I did, but after about five minutes, I found myself in the middle of the actual gay pride parade (my first one, I should add!) I mentioned above. It was stopped - I didn't know why - and police were everywhere. (Jerusalem boasts a mounted police unit, and as I pushed through the crowd, I slipped past two mounted policemen. I was cursing myself for not having my camera. The horses are huge - I'm not sure what breed - and clearly very well-trained - they stood stock still and calm as people looked around wonderingly.)

Despite my lack of forward thinking, the internet comes through with a great pic!

Anyway, I wended my way, grumbling again and again that this darn, ancient city, had no direct roads (at least, not where I was - there are a few) anywhere. I worked up a good, heart-pounding sweat hiking back up the wadi I had just descended (Gehenna, where Judas purportedly hung himself, and that has other amazing historical tales associated with it - check it out on Wikipedia), up to enter the Old City, and after passing some amazing vistas (if only I had a camera and no friends waiting for me!), the entrance to the ancient Western Wall of the Temple, the archaeological excavations on the south side, the ancient Jewish cemetery and across the Kidron Valley, and then through the Ottoman-era Muslim cemetery that blocks Jerusalem's Golden Gate, I arrived at Lion's Gate. Only to find out that my friend made a mistake - I should have met her at Herod's Gate. Sigh. I could have gone a quicker way.

The giggle? That I rushed through all of these fabulously historical, famous, and meaningful places in the world's holiest place, to sit down sweaty and tired to a lackluster dinner at an otherwise empty restaurant, as my friends smoked hookah and we chatted about frivolities.

This is Golden Gate, and the Muslim Cemetery

This is the Kidron Valley. Note the thousands of smaller tombs all over the lower, southern part of the Mount of Olives - Jews buried here expect to be the first to be resurrected and greet the Messiah when He comes. Below them are three New Testament era tombs. Many believe that it was to these Jesus referred when He spoke of the hypocrisy of the Pharisees and Jewish teachers, who on the outside were "whitewashed," but inside full of dead bones and unclean (Matt. 23:27).

So, giggles and grumbles. The grumbles abound, but I've mostly covered them in previous posts. It is taxing to spend time in such a conflict-ridden place. Imagine living here! It's truly no wonder Israelis are notoriously brusque and curt! Yet, as I mentioned, they are good - Israelis and Palestinians. Last night, as I finally boarded the bus, an elderly woman with a walker and stiff, tired legs, asked me to help her. As I struggled to help her, an Israeli guy with long curly hair and a tank top jumped down to help. Then, as the bus began to speed away (this is a grumble and a chuckle, in other circumstances), and the woman desperately tried to steady herself before sitting down to a seat someone had vacated for her near the front of the bus, the whole bus grumpily yelled at the driver, "Rega!" - "Wait a second!" so she could get settled.

It's the bus that brings me most of the chuckles. Many of us in the States are rather privileged and haven't had to ride the bus consistently a lot. But even compared to Boston, where I've ridden my fair share, Jerusalem buses are a hoot. They accelerate and slow/stop rather abruptly, move faster than seems safe to me, and the streets are quite curvy and hilly. It's never a dull ride. Every time I get on, I grip the poles tightly and shuffle awkwardly down the aisle until I find either a seat or a permanent spot to which I can secure myself for those inevitable jerks (not a person) that threaten to topple even the most firmly gripped passenger.

Sometimes I find a seat in the back, which is always elevated. It is from that comfortable perch that I often people watch, chuckling at the drunken manner in which every single person, no matter the age or muscle tone, stumbles down the same aisle I did. My favorite is seeing someone on the phone who thinks they can hack it, leans against a pole or positions their legs in a fashion that they think will steady them against the lurching, and then goes flying into someone near them when the bus takes a turn or slams on the breaks unexpectedly (which, actually, they should know by now is always entirely expected!). On the bus, personal space diminishes significantly - through such counters as just mentioned, from the need to push past people to the exit, or simply the common experience of shoving as many on as we can. Always a joy.

Another quick giggle is the famous "Monster Slide" that lives about a block away from me. I noticed it on my first evening walk, and for a while, I thought perhaps it was some kind of modern art attempt at a large cow. I soon concluded it was really just a weird slide (but way cool!). Then I found out from various people, when they inquired where I was living, that this slide is a landmark. It's famous! And I'm delighted to tell you that I now know the Hebrew word for "monster" - and that I was even able to explain to a woman on the bus, as she struggled to hold on to a cute little 6 or 7 month old baby, plus two other small children, where the "Mifletzet" was located. I'm practically a local.


Apparently another reason my part of town is famous is that nearby is a development called "Holy Land." It used be a hotel and little park that housed replicas of Jerusalem from the Old Testament, New Testament and modern period. It is very fun to see, and is now located near the Israeli national museum. Previous Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert is now going to prison (unless he, like many Israelis, finds a way out of it) for accepting bribes during his term from a real estate developer to create the following high-end apartment complex.

I drive by this in the bus every day.


A final little joy is that I finally found the little olive wood shop of the famous (among Mormon visitors to Jerusalem) Omar. He truly was a kind, engaging, and talented man. Anyone going to Jerusalem, make sure to stop at Omar's! The piece he is holding is way out of my price range, but it was my favorite, and one day...


Oops - almost forgot ONE more. I visited one of my professors in southern Israel this week. He owns a farm with olive trees and a vineyard - he makes his own olive oil and wine. I got to taste Merlot, Shiraz, and Cabernet Sauvignon grapes. Don't worry - I didn't accept the wine! But it was pretty cool to see how it's made!



And that's all the giggles and grumbles I have for now. I'll be back in Utah this time next week. Surely time with my family will provide plenty of good blog material - both grumbles and giggles!




Friday, July 24, 2015

Right and Wrong: The Battle for Moral Supremacy

I've been contemplating all week how to say what it is I want to say on Israel and the unending conflicts that almost define its existence. Part of my reticence is the fact that I'm rather a peacenik, and I instinctively tend to avoid conflict. (Oh, the irony!) I also tend to be very slow to throw around blame, or to accept any conflict as black and white. So, although I can be rather reckless in some things (i.e. renting a car and driving all over northern Israel without a GPS), I am rather cautious in publicizing my views on really sticky, complicated issues. Perhaps this is also a self-preservation technique - a sense that many of those who disagree with me will simply belittle me rather than consider the actual issues. This seems to be a human trait, as I see it appear over and over in history, but much more frequently in today's social media climate: people rely on the tried and true method of dismissing a particular perspective they don't like by attacking the person behind the argument as intellectually inferior, pig-headed, or a hypocrite. Usually all three, or a combination, appear, whereas actual reasoning seems too difficult a task to pursue. Thus, convinced that I cannot win in such game, the risk of conflict is not worth it, and I simply remain silent. But I can do better.

Truth be told, I only enter my thoughts now because I feel I owe it to those who take the time to read my blog, with the hope of finding actual substance in my writing. I do try to offer substance, most of the time. Fewer picture this time around, I'm afraid.

I also must confess at the outset (or almost outset) that I am not an expert on this particular aspect of Israel's history. I do keep up on news reports and have heard from many experts in the field, but I myself am not one. But, like any good academic, I won't let what I don't know stop me from prattling on about what I do know, then top it off with some moralizing. First I'll give a brief rundown of the history, and then I'll give a little commentary.

The existence of a Jewish state in the land called Palestine for two millennia has never enjoyed wholehearted worldwide support. It's safe to say that, without the backing of the two new world superpowers (the US and USSR) in November, 1947, the UN vote for partition of Palestine, and therefore the creation of that Jewish state, would have been an unfulfilled dream - at least at that time. Yet, largely in the West, Israel enjoyed much sympathy ideologically. Still, Britain and the US both dithered in the 1950s - in fact, in the fateful 1947 UN decision, Britain voted against the partition that its leaders had themselves proposed a decade earlier. As far as foreign policy was concerned, maintaining good relations with the Arab states (who were, and are, major suppliers of oil) was much more important than ideological leanings that might have drawn them toward Israel. And, at least in American eyes (George Marshall served as Secretary of State in 1947), the tiny group of hopeful Jews didn't stand a chance against the entire Arab world.

Yet, Israel also enjoyed many sympathizers, particularly from the western Christian community. The tiny democracy in the Middle East garnered much praise, and its daring in the face of such seemingly overwhelming odds, along its resonance with Christian expectations of this state as literal fulfillment of prophecy, made it a popular cause. Israel was the little David who could, boldly standing against the brutal Goliath who vowed its destruction.

After 1967, when Israel beat the combined Arab forces for a second time, this time in a war known by Jews as the Six-Day war for its briefness, and took the West Bank and Gaza off the hands of Jordan and Egypt, Israel lost its privileged status as the underdog. Supported with American financing and military help, and proving its superb military intelligence and training, it became the Goliath. Of course, Israelis do not see the situation this way. Still surrounded by hostile neighbors, and haunted by real and cultural memories of the Holocaust - memories fed a gluttonous diet of Arab hatred and Iranian slogans of death to Jews that have the chilling ring of German campaigns nearly a century ago - Israelis cannot seem to escape a real sense of constant existential threat.

The country has been able to maintain some of its victim status in recent decades, as the PLO, in the 1960s, 70s and 80s mounted increasingly internationally visible terror plots. Since the period of the Oslo Accords, beginning in 1993, and then their dissolution after Rabin's assassination in 1995, Israel has slid ever more quickly into the abyss of negative world opinion. The explanation for this is threefold, I believe. First and foremost, Israel is now undeniably the strongest power in the Middle East, and as the conflict has narrowed to a kind of guerrilla warfare between stateless, impoverished Palestinians and dominant, America-backed Israel, the Palestinians come out looking much more victimized. Second, and connected to the first, the world has changed in significant ways since 1948 when Israel was created. Whereas a century ago, nationalism and colonialism were still generally acceptable world views, the intervening decades have seen small countries fight desperately for sovereignty, and colonialism has become a byword for many of the evils of the world. And Israel, backed by colonial powers, and created, at least initially, by western Jews with some colonial tendencies (it must be noted, however, that those early Jewish settlers bore striking differences from colonialist aspirations and attitudes as well), is seen as a final colonial invasion into Arab lands. This has been accompanied by an increasingly popular notion that the big guy is always bad, and the little guy always the victim of the bad guy - and it doesn't matter so much whether he's good or bad - he's the victim. There is certainly some truth to this view, but, in keeping with human nature, it tends to be a much too simplified way to cleanly label the players in this conflict, or any conflict.

The third aspect of Israel's fall from grace relates to its retention of the West Bank territories, and the various military operations it has waged against attacks from Gaza in the south, and Hezbollah-led strikes in the north, mainly from Lebanon. I'll come back to this in a bit, but this too is a complicated matter.

While my education has been less about the Palestinian experience, I do wish to address it, since it is at the heart of the story. Truly, Palestinians are the victims of history - from all angles. I will be clear, however, in stating that to sling all of the blame on Israel is simply to ignore a great many realities - either out of a need to have a clear separation between good and bad guys, or, often enough, out of an actual refusal to accept a Jewish state, sometimes for religious reasons, sometimes due to lingering (or resurrected) anti-semitism.

Let me explain how I see Palestinians as victims. Palestine, in the last century or two of the Ottoman Empire, was a backwater, with little economic investment, and minimal government involvement. Beginning in the early 19th century, Britain, with its colonial aspirations, as well as Germany and France, all began to take on an increasing measure of local governance - through consulates, the creation of colonies, missions, hospitals, etc. Evidence of that encroachment is abundant all over Jerusalem's landscape today: Christchurch just inside Jaffa Gate - first foreign consulate, with its accompanying Anglican (and for a while, German) church and bishopric - AND, notably, the first Protestant church built inside the city, as Ottomans, ruling from the 1400s, banned any new church construction; Augusta Victoria (German - named after the Kaiser's mother) hospital and church prominent on the Mount of Olives; French blue-latticed buildings that once served as hospitals in West Jerusalem, as well as Catholic hostels and monasteries.

When Britain took the Mandate in 1919, after defeating Germany in World War I, it invested heavily in Palestine's infrastructure. Yet its foreign policy lacked consistency. Initially, they supported the notion of a Jewish homeland in Palestine - yet what that would look like was never really clear. Then, although remaining somewhat sympathetic to Jewish national aspirations, they tried to back away from that policy, due in part to sharp, often violent, Arab resistance, and due in part to their own foreign policy interests that maintained the necessity for good relations with the new Arab states. They were never able to assert real control over the increasingly intractable battle over sovereignty in the Land, and gave it up to the UN in 1947. The UN voted for partition, but the Arabs, especially the local Arabs, never saw that as legitimate.

The Palestinians had sided with the Germans in World War II, the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem famously meeting with Hitler and stirring up virulent anti-Jewish sentiment. Jews often fought back with as many terror tactics as did the Palestinians. But with the UN decision in late 1947, and unanimous Arab rejection of it, the Arab leadership all saw the opportunity to take the land for themselves. This is one of the main reasons the Jews won: whereas they were united (this is not entirely accurate, but for our purposes, it is generally true), the Arabs never fought together, and often wrestled for power in the region. The Palestinians, other than guerrilla fighting units, and a few who joined some of the Arab armies, didn't participate in the war. They had no real governing authority.

And therein lies much of the problem. They have never had much by way of stable, authoritative government. While the Jews were creating a pre-state framework in the early decades of the 20th century, the Arab world was being restructured, and the Palestinians were simply pawns on the board. Many of the Arab countries had state structure imposed upon them in the post World War I era - imposed on them by the victorious western powers, with leaders chosen for their loyalty to the West. Today's break up of those precarious states is one direct result of that attempt to manufacture western-style states. But Palestine never even had that.

Likewise, although Zionists for decades denied it, hundreds of Palestinians were indeed forced from their homes, and a few notorious massacres did occur, although the number of episodes and victims is often greatly inflated. (We Americans know something of exaggerating tragedies, don't we? Consider the Boston "massacre.") They left their homes and crops, and Jews quickly either demolished those homes, or re-occupied them with Jewish immigrants flooding in from Europe, and soon, from all over the Arab world. (Consider that Israel more than doubled its Jewish population in the decade after 1948 - most of the immigrants from Arab countries that erupted in violent Jewish hatred after Israel was created. Many Israelis view that as a fair trade with the Arab world - more Jews were forced out of Arab countries than Arabs who lost their homes in 1948.) When they tried to return across the 1949 Armistice line - a border they viewed as arbitrary (often it divided up families' own property), if they even knew where it was at all - in order to harvest crops previously planted, or visit relatives, they risked being killed by nervous Israeli guards. In fact, many were killed, sometimes even women and children. Little recompense, if any, has been paid, but some small recognition of such massacres, intended or not, has been grudgingly granted in recent years.

Palestinians who remained in Israel were now the minority in a country where they majority status had never been in question. They were given citizenship, but lived for the first two decades under strict military rule. They lived in fear, with occasional tragic episodes of violent exchange with the Israeli authorities. Their socio-economic standards have risen with Israel, but they have always remained, resentfully, second-class citizens with fewer resources than Jewish citizens, across the board. As I have stated before, recognizing this is not to delegitimize Israel in any way. Precious few modern states can claim a clean record when it comes to national identity and equal treatment of their citizens - and Israel gets more than its fair share of attention in that department, under significantly more challenging conditions.

But the Palestinians who lost their homes and have since lived in refugee camps (many of these "camps" are now full-on cities, still plagued with poverty and the accompanying ignorance, disease and tendency toward extremism that all this engenders). These have received almost no real help from the countries to which they fled. They have remained refugees - seldom given citizenship (that has begun to change, and Jordan's Palestinians do have a much more normalized life than do most Palestinian refugees), or government help to become normalized. This lack of government assistance was the result of various factors, but first and foremost among them was the need for these refugees to remain refugees. As such, their claim to their lands would remain unresolved, and they could retain hope for international assistance in regaining those lands. Likewise, they could be living representations of the evil Jewish state and its legacy.

Very few in the West, excepting Quakers in the early decades, took more than a passing interest in the Palestinian plight. Touting the miraculous Jewish victory, no one wanted to acknowledge the accompanying Palestinian suffering. It was not until a few (always a few extremist, rarely with majority support) frustrated members of the second generation began to garner international attention through their terror campaigns, that the world began to take notice of the hurt, anger, and frustration that remained unresolved. From the perspective of many Palestinians, "terror" is the only thing that has actually worked.

Now, all that said, here we sit in the 21st century, with two peoples intransigent in their victimhood, but only one that has successfully built a state. Israel, in many ways, has become the whipping boy for the problems in the Middle East - particularly useful as a political rallying cry by leaders hoping to keep the people's minds off the real problems, and on the injustice done to the Palestinians - for whom none of them have done anything to actually help. Israel's lesson from the Holocaust is that the international community cannot be trusted to do anything to help Jews. Whether that is true, it's truly the belief. Thus, when under attack, they fight back desperately, like a caged cat. Often this is with little regard for surrounding civilians, who, they insist, should be stopping the terrorists themselves, so Israel wouldn't have to.

In the case of Gaza a year ago, Israel garnered an easy victory, with very little loss of Israeli life. And they took enormous precautions to guard against civilian losses on the Palestinian side. They drop leaflets from the air, do phone calls and texts warning when and where an attack (missile) will take out a building. They do a warning "knock," dropping a non-explosive missile on the house just before hitting it. And the targets are specific - homes of Hamas terrorists, or places where intelligence says there are rockets and rocket launchers. Israel cannot understand how the world does not see that these thugs  hide bombs in homes, hospitals, schools - so that in destroying them, Israel has to do utmost damage. Likewise, Hamas authorities did threaten families not to leave their homes - what could they do? And with the compactness of Gaza's population, families often had nowhere safe to go. Sometimes the Israeli missile did not hit its target until hours after the given time (which is not unusual in a live combat situation), and families would return. They could not stay in a hotel, and often they were threatened by the Hamas leadership to remain home. What could they do? As the casualty numbers rose in Gaza, and none on the Israeli side, it became clear to the world who the easy bad guy was. Israel won that war, but lost, quite handily, the battle of public opinion.

Of course, Israeli leadership and the public alike cry foul, when international law is flouted by hypocritical UN organizations that call Israeli actions war crimes. On the legal side, the leadership knows full well that such self-preservation tactics have been employed by the US, NATO, and others over the last two decades, without major outcry. This is not to mention the fact that the biggest problem international military leaders have with Israel's tactics is that they do TOO much to preserve civilian life - no other country can be expected to reach such a high standard of warning civilians!

And I must agree with this Israeli frustration. Israel is not the only small country that doesn't get fair treatment in UN politics, and world opinion. That doesn't lessen the sense injustice they feel, and indeed, much of the criticism is hypocritical.

And yet I am not so quick to defend Israel either. It digs its own world opinion grave, and I struggle a great deal with certain aspects of Israeli shared cultural personality. A recent article best explains it - and the fact that it's written by an Israeli Jew lends credibility to my point. You can read the whole article here, but I'll just quote the pertinent part. The author, Gal Beckerman, bemoans the rather schizophrenic nature of American Jewish selfhood today, but in the process, reflects my own thoughts on Israeli sense of self as well.

"All this pessimism about American Jews might imply that I think Israeliness is some sort of paragon. But when I go to Israel I feel equally demoralized, though for the opposite reasons. There it’s the overconfidence, the assuredness that does not stop to question its own actions or motives, that makes no room — even demonizes — any kind of doubting self-reflection.

If the nervousness of the American Jew saddens me, the bravado of the Israeli scares me. Combine this Israeli sense of righteousness with an embrace of victimhood — Israel having become the “Jew” of the world as most Israelis see it — and you have a people that does not feel it has any moral responsibility other than the imperative to survive."

That, my friends, is the point I wish to make here. Israel is and does try to be "moral" as it defends itself. But it does so in a defeatist manner, almost so that it can maintain its victimized status as the picked on, bullied victim of the world. “We’ve done all we can,” they cry, “and they still blame us! See, it’s anti-semitism!” And the cycle continues.

Not that I disagree - they do more than they have to, and they are careful. Because they know they have the whole world watching every second. But they also do it grumblingly, knowing they’re just going to get the scorn of the world anyway. So it becomes more of a shield, a kind of emotional self-defense tactic, with which to assure themselves (and their supporters) of their own rightness, and portray their detractors as simple racist bullies. It is a weapon, an argument for the court of public opinion, their own as well as the world’s. 

And the Palestinians are generally no better. Gaza 2014 was all about world public opinion and legitimacy. The only way to be legitimate in today’s climate is to be the weaker party, the victim. The weaker is always the stronger morally - no matter what. They know it, and they use it. They perpetuate their victimhood to highlight Israel’s aggressiveness. And while I'm analyzing all this, I have to state that I find Hamas' tactics despicable, their aims untenable, and their own sense of moral righteousness darkly laughable. But, as of 2015, they have largely won the battle of world public opinion.

And Israel plays right into it - because they are likewise caught in their own victimhood cycle, and their own sense of moral rectitude in the face of evil would-be destroyers.

I have to say, as I wrap up, that Israelis are, by and large, also good. The same goes for Palestinians. They are aware and do care about (although certainly don't trust) the other side. They are tired of the conflict, but have lost very nearly all hope that an end is near. Both sides have. They simply fight on because, well, that's a story for another day.

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Our Byword Here: Complexity

I just returned from a nice walk in the cool of twilight. Don't tell my parents. They'll be worried about me. I like these evening walks. Israel is a very safe country. I know, that will elicit a disbelieving chuckle from many of my readers. But it's true. Statistically speaking, Israel boasts far fewer crimes, violent and nonviolent, than most developed countries in the world, per capita. Of course, whatever major crimes do occur here, the world knows about it immediately - as I mentioned in my last post, Israel has far more news-related personnel here than any other country or even city. Anywhere.

Of course, the question then becomes, how does one define safety? And safe for whom, from whom or what? And in calling it a "safe country," by what measure am I defining it as a country?

Ah. It's complicated. (No, I am not trying to pull a Bill Clinton and hide behind semantics!)

I'll confess that I am being a little deceptive by leading with my own assurance that Israel is a safe country. Not that I'm lying. I simply am leaving out the part about my phone being stolen yesterday in the Old City. I suppose I was an easy target - it was just hanging out in the pocket of my big baggy pants - easy to spot, easy to swipe. And I'm pretty upset about it. Still, I insist Israel is a safe country. So is Jordan, and, from all I can gather, so are the Palestinian territories.

But of course, it's complicated.

That was the byword of the recent Summer Institute for Israel Studies. Every scholar we talked to, every place we visited, every issue we discussed, in the end, all that one could say was, "Well, it's complicated."

One of the ways, of course, in which this notion of safety is complicated is in its definition. True, it's far less likely I'll be attacked, raped or otherwise hurt here (assuming my ankle doesn't go looking for just the right rock or hole). That's true for pretty much everyone here. When you abide by the rules. Those include segregation. Everyone, including, perhaps especially, the Israeli Arab population insists on social segregation. That almost certainly makes my American readers uncomfortable, but there are understandable reasons for this segregation.

From day one, Israel's leaders, in order to hold the vastly disparate country together, embraced the principle of compromise. One of those compromises was, in effect, on the principle of segregation: allowing each community to maintain and pass on its own identity. Thus, Israel's education system is entirely fractured along four lines: State religious (subsidized by the state, but run entirely by religious leadership); state secular; Arab (also subsidized by the state, but likewise run by the local Arab community); private. Likewise, Israel has always maintained three national languages: Hebrew, Arabic, and English. Most Arabs speak Hebrew, at least to a basic degree, but few Jews speak Arabic. (There are certain movements in Israeli society and government to change that - to force everyone to learn all three languages at school - but of course, that's complicated when each of the four tracks insists on its own curriculum and there is no central authority to enforce basic educational standards. Education, by the way, is one of Israel's greatest challenges - the gap in educational achievement is rather shocking and quite a frightening omen for Israel's future. Israel's Ultra-Orthodox, the Haredim, for example, rarely achieve higher than an elementary school level of math and science, no history or other social science, and the boys spend their teenage years exclusively on Torah study. Likewise, Israeli Arabs often get a much lower level of education, simply because of the cultural differences. Again, movements are underway to begin to implement and enforce some basic standards, but that means wrenching away some of that autonomy, and that becomes, well, complicated.)

Israel's cities, villages and neighborhoods are likewise segregated - by choice. Part of maintaining and passing on a national or religious identity includes being surrounded by people like yourself. For better or worse, Mormons (members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) understand this concept very well. (In case you are wondering, I tend to think this emphasis on separateness was a necessity historically to form a strong base for the fledgling early LDS Church, but that it is rather an unfortunate cultural legacy now.) Some of the shared spaces are, as you might guess, public transportation, Jerusalem (although, anyone familiar with the Old City can tell you how segregated even that little space is), and a precious few villages, mostly in the north.

Now if someone wanders into the space of the Other, generally he/she will not encounter any physical harm. I have seen Palestinian Israelis wandering the streets of West Jerusalem without being bothered. They often get looks (so do I, for the record - staring is apparently not so culturally rude here), but generally no more. However, I talked with a young Palestinian woman who works in West Jerusalem, and she explained to me that, while she has never been harmed, she has had ugly things said to her. I know that Jews will rarely enter East Jerusalem - although those that have think this fear is ridiculous. (I agree.)

And I have not even mentioned the Ultra-Orthodox (Haredi) neighborhoods. Israel has been plagued with disagreements, even violent outbursts, centering on culture and identity in these areas. We visited Bet Shemesh, an Israeli city between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, that has essentially been taken over by Haredi families. (These families are quickly becoming a significant demographic factor, as they have many more children than other Israeli families, so their numbers are growing quickly, and their power in government, even though they theoretically don't support the existence of the State of Israel (it's complicated), far outweighs even their growing numbers.) One particular street acts as the dividing line between Orthodox Jews and Ultra-Orthodox. Recently, a young girl from the Orthodox community made headlines for walking to school. She was harangued by several Ultra-Orthodox men who told her she dressed indecently, and even threw rocks at her. (Bear in mind that an Orthodox girl will wear a skirt to the knees, generally with stockings, shirt to the elbows.) Rocks are rather commonplace - if you drive on Shabbat in these neighborhoods, your car will not leave unscathed.

That brings up the question of what we mean by safe. Safe from physical harm? Emotional pain? And what about the emotional pain of losing one's home? Palestinian families have kept, for generations now, the keys to homes either no longer standing or long-since occupied by Jewish families - homes they left (most were forced to leave in the war of 1948) and hoped to return to. They have not been allowed.

Even more to the point, what about the West Bank, where a home may be ransacked by Israeli soldiers, based on the suspicion that it is harboring Palestinian terrorists? What about Gaza, where the Israeli and Egyptian (for goodness sake, let's not forget that Egypt also blockades Gaza's borders!) militaries prevent people and goods from coming in or going out - at least, not without significant difficulty. Is this safety? Add to that the terror of Israeli soldiers storming streets and homes - or perhaps worse, targeted missiles, demolishing homes (which, usually, harbor Hamas militants or are unfortunate enough to hide missile launching machinery), in which, all too often, civilians are killed. (This is perhaps the most complicated issue of all. Who is ultimate bad guy here? The short answer is, I don't know. But I have a lot to say on the matter, in a future blog post. I know you'll be waiting with baited breath.)

While we're on Gaza, what about Israeli citizens, Jewish, Arab, and those of various other ethnicities (yes, they exist!), simply living their lives, running frightened into bomb shelters once or twice a day - sometimes more, if they live in the southern region. Even with Israel's tremendously effective Iron Dome system of shooting Gaza rockets out of the sky, one cannot dismiss the sense of fear and insecurity this kind of life engenders.

And children, on both sides of that border, grow up in this world of uncertainty, of unknown enemies. Well, perhaps a  major chunk of the problem is, they feel that they know those enemies all too well, when the reality is, the deep segregation I spoke of early makes that "knowledge" impossible.

A final element that complicates the notion of a "safe country" is trying to define what "country" I'm talking about. What is Israel, anyway? I mean, where are its borders? Yes, you know the answer: it's complicated. Most international observers, including many Arabs, insist on the 1949 Armistice lines that ceased the fighting. At that point, Jordan had control over the West Bank, Egypt over Gaza. Jordan attempted to annex the West Bank, but the Arab world threatened it with expulsion from the Arab League if it moved forward with so bold a move. So, it remained in limbo. Egypt never wanted Gaza - it had no historical claim, and with all the Palestinian refugees using it as a launch site to continue a kind of guerrilla warfare on the newly-created imposter Jewish State, it became little more than a thorn in its side. Both Egypt and Jordan felt they had lost little when Israel occupied them both in 1967. Oh, the rhetoric of occupation never went away - it's a useful rallying cry in a region so fractured along identity lines that the evil Jewish State is just about the only (and very effective) point of common consent.

But the issue is - how can we say that Israel is occupying a country that was never a country? It never had definable borders. Neither has Israel, for that matter. Palestine never had an autonomous government - prior to the British Mandate that began in 1919, it was a part of greater Syria, under regional government within the Ottoman Empire. But it cannot be argued that Palestine does not have a national identity. It very much does, and Palestinians feel that identity threatened regularly. Thus, as settlers snatch up more and more of their potential state (which is less than 22% of the original territory of Palestine), with the tacit approval, even, often enough, assistance, of the Israeli government, how can Palestinians feel that their national sovereignty, their national identity and national aspirations, are at all safe?

And so the blame game continues. Everyone is to blame, and everyone is the victim.

Yeah, it's complicated. But still, I continue my evening walks, because, despite it all, people here just want to live and find peace. They really do. And they want to feel safe. I want them to as well. For now, I will enjoy the feeling of safety I enjoy in both Palestinian and Jewish towns. Walking in the beautiful Land.



Now, for some photos.

Since I no longer have my phone (camera included), you'll have to forgive that most of these are from the last few days of the Summer Institute, and none are from this little neighborhood I'm living (and walking around) in. But I think they offer some visual representation of what I have been talking about.


Palestinian keys.


My friend Guilherme overlooking the West Bank development city, Rawabi. This is a fascinating case - a wealthy Palestinian investor who decided to create a new, advanced, affordable city in the West Bank - to attract growth and development in a land stagnant and without a great deal of leadership. I think it's very exciting.


Our Israeli guide, Ariyeh, showing us, from a safe vantage point, the borders of Gaza and surrounding Israeli towns.


One of the Holocaust monuments at Yad Vashem Holocaust Museum. I think its significance is self-explanatory.


A little treasure I found in our very own hotel, Mount Zion Hotel. A tiny museum of the 1948 war and the cable car that ran from that building (then a makeshift hospital) to the actual Mount Zion, over the Hinnom Valley, which was a kind of no-man's land during the war. This photo is of some of the Israeli soldiers.


This is the remnants of the cable car.


In the Palestinian Israeli town of Kfar Qassem, this monument memorializes a massacre that took place in 1956. After the 1948 war, many Palestinian farmers still had crops and land they considered theirs on the other side of the armistice line, and would frequently come across to harvest. In the fall of 1956, Israel invaded Egypt. (This was part of a plot that Britain and France goaded them to participate in - both countries were trying to retain their presence in the Middle East, and Nasser in Egypt had just nationalized the Suez Canal, which had negative ramifications for both Britain, who wanted to maintain control over it, and France, who was tired of Nasser supporting Algerian nationalist fighters. The idea was that Israel would attack, and then Britain and France would come in to make peace, and reassert their military presence. When the world community uncovered the plot, they were furious, and both countries lost their holdings in the Middle East anyway.) As part of a decoy, Israel sent soldiers up north to act as if they would attack Jordan, and this border town was on curfew. But the villagers across the armistice line knew nothing of the curfew, and came in at night to harvest. Dozens were killed in a senseless military reaction, many of them women and children. For years Israel denied it, and although the soldiers spent four years in jail, they were later released with no further consequences. The Palestinian families claim they were never compensated, nor did they ever receive an official apology. It is, understandably, a very sensitive part of the history here.


On top of Mount Carmel, where reportedly Elijah battled it out with the priests of Baal. An amazing view of the Jezreel Valley.


The view of Tel Aviv from Jaffa. To emphasize how safe I feel in this country (and the segregation), I walked with some friends from Jaffa to Tel Aviv (approximately 3.5 miles) well after dark. We passed various Arabs celebrating Ramadan (in which Muslims fast during the day, for an entire month - making the times after sundown a joyous time of eating and gift-giving). It was beautiful - I highly recommend spending time in Jaffa! Somewhere along the walk, we didn't notice exactly when (no actual line of demarcation, of course), the faces became Jewish faces, and the language Hebrew. And the two did not mix.


An evening walk along the beach. You can guess where. It is hard to see in the dusk light, but the letters are colors of the rainbow. So fun.

Monday, July 6, 2015

Israel: Coming Home, Again

I so often find myself at a complete loss for explaining how I relate with this country I spend so much of my life studying and visiting. When I left Israel 15 years ago, I felt as though I was leaving home. I had never felt anything like it, and the sense that this country would forever be a part of my life didn't leave me. Home now has many layers for me, and I have many homes that I have had to leave many times. Of course, the most frequent, and usually most difficult, is leaving my dear family and friends far away in Wyoming/Utah each time I return to visit. My heart resides in many places, and one of them is here.

But this place has become much more like home in some interesting, hard to explain ways. I fell in love with it in a rather quick, passionate, rather simplistic way. It was enough to leave an impression on my mind and heart that would eventually pull me back, but I did not know this land and people in any kind of intimate way. When I began studying Israel in a serious way, I learned many facts, frameworks, theories, statistics, historical realities and other important elements of the country that filled in much of the picture, but now it was from a distance. Two years ago, I returned for the first time. The land and the people were familiar and strange to me. I suppose this was, in my own small way, not unlike so many millions of Jews have felt when they immigrated here to this intimately familiar, yet painfully strange land. 

Now here I am again. My visits here have become more commonplace, and each time my mom asks me whether I'm excited for my trip, I kind of shrug and say, "I suppose." The reality is, it feels like coming home. (Let me be clear, however, that I am always much more excited to come home to visit my family and friends than the somewhat apathetic response I described above would indicate!) I suspect that, for most of us, "home" is complicated. Of course, not being married and without my own family, I refer to home as that great place where we all (grown siblings meeting at Mom and Dad's home) shed our masks and performances - where our best and worst selves usually compete for center stage in the family drama. Where love and loyalty are deepest, and frustration and old hurts resurface most easily. Home, a place of implicit love, understanding and peace, is often also a place of misunderstanding, irritation and frustration. It is history and the now, the complex and the simple. Because it's Humanity in all its rawness and ephemeralness, striving, sometimes achieving, Heaven with its sense of eternity and wholeness.

That's the way in which Israel feels like home now. I watch it and interact with it in much the same way: frustration at the brokenness of it all, at the bitterness and tedious feuding; empathy for the divisions and pain that run deep; and awe at the history and humanity - the juxtaposition of the heavenly and the human. Still, I am an outsider. I don't live here, and I don't really deal with daily life here in any significant way. But one of the things that fascinates me with this tiny strip of land, is that so many of us "outsiders" feel, deep in our heart of hearts, like this is our country. We have a stake in it. Among the many competing claims on this land, we make our own, through our personal interest (no other country in the world has the kind of international news coverage that Israel enjoys/puts up with - not even by a long shot!), our own hopes for the place and the people, our religious narratives, and so on. It seems to belong to all of us imperfect souls.

I am now helping facilitate an academic study tour of Israel and Palestine. It is a truly remarkable experience each year I am privileged to participate. But the intensity of the tour makes for overloaded brains, tired bodies and minds, and raw nerves all around. Today it exploded on the bus, as certain individuals began to belittle others who didn't share their own views of the place and experience. It was a hard day - a kind microcosm of the tensions that pulsate here all the time, and sometimes flare. Yet, life is also life here. People live, love, work, dream and achieve great things. It is a land and people of contradictions. And I love it.

I will post more in coming days about specific issues that I think my family and friends will find interesting. For now, thanks for allowing me to pontificate. Here are a few pictures by way of a little compensation.

Tour on top of the maze of homes and shops in Old City Jerusalem. 


An interesting shot: A group of Muslims visiting (as a tour) the Jewish quarter of Jerusalem. Rare - but hopeful!

Friends at the Mount of Beatitudes

Overlooking the Jezreel Valley, northern Israel



Friday, May 29, 2015

Jordan: some interesting things I've learned

I have now been in Jordan over two months. I've learned a lot of Arabic (and become painfully aware of how much I don't know!), and a lot of interesting things about this country. It's been a great blessing to be here. I have not, not once, felt in danger from anyone here. That isn't to say I haven't griped and complained about the overly-friendly taxis, nor that I haven't had to just shrug off the occasional whistle or hiss in my direction. But I endured much worse in Chile, not to mention Jerusalem. I have been quite pleasantly surprised by my experiences here. Huge issues with litter and trash disposal? YES! Traffic that would make my mother pass out from fear? You bet! Heat that keeps giving me heat rash in my armpits (surely TMI)? Yep - and more on the way. But Jordan is a quiet, unassuming country who has taken in millions of refugees in its short life, has struggled to find unity and coherence, and that is making some important, though not widely-known, strides forward in establishing peace in this war-torn region.

I've taken advantage of a few opportunities to learn from Tobias Bradford, a friend from church who works as the Cultural Affairs Officer at the US Embassy. He's privy to various little insights that bode well for Jordan, and for small strides toward peace. Here are a few.

In the last few years:

  • The GDP (if you're not sure what this means, here's a good site that explains it well) has grown from $2000 (2005) to $4000 (2012) - a 90% increase.
  • Those with access to internet has grown from 12% in 2005 to 41% in 2012, to 72% this year.
  • The consumer price index has seen a 60% growth, agricultural production a 30% growth.
  • Women in tertiary (college/post-high school) education is now at 51%.
  • Cell phone subscriptions have jumped from 40 in every 100 to 113 in every 100 - which means some people have multiple cell phones.
I have also gotten to hear some fun news about other aspects of Jordan. One area of interest to me is tourism, in which Jordan has recently been making great investment. Jordan has long been a side note on most people's visit to the Middle East, Israel and Egypt being the main attractors. In recent years, as Egypt has become a difficult place to visit, and Israel can be hit or miss (no pun intended), Jordan's tourism has fallen, despite the fact that it has some incredible places to visit! So, Jordan has been investing in both marketing and building up the tourism element, and has had quite a lot of success.

Other issues it has been dealing with is trade. Much of its trade has historically been with Syria and Egypt, which, for obvious reasons, has declined sharply in recent years. Likewise, the natural gas that Jordan has previously received from Egypt, is no longer available - so it has been purchasing it from an Israeli company that does off-shore production in the Mediterranean Sea. (This is fact is not widely known, as trade with Israel is tantamount to normalization of relations, and not popular among a large portion of the population.)

Water is, of course, a constant concern. But Jordanians are remarkably adept at conservation. (The western states in the US could sure take a lesson!) What has changed in recent months is the huge influx of refugees from Syria (not to mention tens of thousands from Iraq), who are not used to such conservation. As many as 1.3 million refugees have flooded Jordan, many of them making permanent homes and becoming incorporated into the economic fabric. (To put that into perspective, consider how such an influx of immigrants, with little more than what they could carry in a car, would affect Utah, which is only slightly smaller than Jordan in terms of land mass.) These refugees, accustomed to much more access to water in Syria, use 7 times the amount of water that a Jordanian does. Jordan, consequently, in the course of two years, has gone from the fourth most water poor country to the second. (Still not sure which is the first.) The obvious solution is to get water brought in from Syria - except that current conditions render that kind of effort impossible.

So, Jordan has embarked on a water desalinization project. And who is the country with whom they are partnering, you ask? Israel, of course! Except that is also a rather hush-hush fact. For the last couple of years, they have been working on a joint project of desalinization, out of the Red Sea (a water source they have in common) that would provide up to half of Jordan's water needs in a few years - water that could be used for everything but drinking and agricultural applications. This is a scientific endeavor that would put Jordan (and Israel) in a leadership position in creating solutions to the world's need for water. Exciting stuff!

Even more exciting, however, is the conversation about ISIS. What most of us (myself included, until I learned more) don't realize is that, although the leadership is highly internet-savvy and brilliant terms of marketing, most of the actual fighting is done by mercenaries and thugs - men who have fought in past conflicts, who know nothing else, and are attracted by the promise of money, a decent lifestyle, and easy access to women. The Iraqi regime - what is left of it (the Ba'athists) are trying to find their way back to a position of power, but they lack the unity, and now the access to revenue sources they once had. Prior to ISIS gaining a foothold, they had access to oil fields that basically secured their financial position - but when the Iraqi army fled, ISIS gained that access, which has given them almost limitless financial resources, not to mention military equipment abandoned by the Iraqi army (and if we recall, much of that was provided by the US - we again find ourselves fighting against our own weapons). 

ISIS (or Da'ash, as it's known here) boasts 40,000 foreign fighters in Iraq and Syria. They are mostly Europeans, but a few Americans, Canadians, Australians and Asians. Those from the latter, more technologically advanced countries, provide a great resource in producing incredibly high-quality propaganda videos (they would rival Hollywood - no exaggeration). These videos portray the Islamists as the true warriors, the heroes willing to stand up to western imperialists. This image is enormously appealing to marginalized, frustrated Muslim youth, many of whom find themselves in poor, dead-end circumstances, and who like the idea of joining a heroic battle - not to mention the perks of a wife (and women), $15,000 given to their families (a fortune for them), the chance to shoot cool weapons and kill the bad guys, etc. 

Of course, these Islamist groups often use the Palestinian cause as a rallying cry, but the reality is that it is very low on the list of priorities. In fact, in Arabic sources, the discussion revolves much more around taking Mecca from the Saudis, whom they view as apostates and traitors. Further, ISIS views Iran (secretly) as an even greater threat than Israel. Unlike the Israelis, whose agenda is clear and actions are relatively consistent, Iran is a loose canon - no one knows what they might do next. Much of it, unsurprising, also revolves around the religious issue: the Sunni-Shi'a divide. (If you want to understand this better, here's a good read.) ISIS views the Shi'a (Iran, majority of Iraqis) as the infidel - as bad as the Jews. Thus, with the rise in sectarian violence (which is a direct result of the rise in recent decades of religious identity in general, in the Middle East), Shi'as do, in fact, face an existential threat, and Iran has a vested interest in supporting Shi'a-led governments. Thus, it has done much to support the recent, Shi'a government in Iraq (deposed by ISIS) - the government that, suppressed for so many years by the Sunni Ba'athists, and once elected, took the chance to return the suppression back on the Iraqi Sunnis, contributing in great measure to the increasing division in Iraq that has provided fertile ground for ISIS in the first place. 

Sigh.

For its part, Jordan maintains an army of 40,000 well-trained soldiers, with access to technology, training, and intelligence from the US. Yes, it may surprise you to know (another fact not often discussed) that the US has a very tight relationship with Jordan. It may be well to remember this fact, when complaints arise of the US-Israel buddy system. The fact is that American and Jordan share much more intelligence than do Israel and America. But we rarely hear complains about that.

Well, it wouldn't be a complete blog post without some photos. Two weeks ago I visited Petra and Wadi Rum with the Bradfords. It was great - except that I sprained my ankle (yes, unsurprising to many of you familiar with the history of this particular ankle). So, poor Tobias acted as my crutch all throughout Petra, and I rode a poor donkey up to see the Monastery. (Truly, I felt terrible for the little donkey, huffing and puffing up the steep steps - and even worse when they told me she had given birth only 12 days prior - no wonder she kept trying to turn around! Her baby was still back down, and her motherly instincts must have been driving her nearly mad! I will tell you without shame that I said many prayers for that sweet, poor little donkey.) 

I also had the opportunity to be the Young Women's Camp Director. What an experience! It taxed my abilities, but we came through OK, and I think the girls had a good time. I'll share a few photos from that as well.

Niki and me in front of the famous Treasury at Petra. If you don't know much about Petra, or about the Nabatean civilization that built it, here's a little info.  

Didn't they pose just perfectly for that shot? 

Here's me and my dear donkey (and the boy who kept encouraging her forward - don't worry, he patted her with the stick, but didn't whack her - that I would NOT have stood (well, sat) for!). I apologize for the haze - I didn't know my camera had a smudge. 

The amazing Monastery. It's a steep, 45-minute climb, but well worth the view! Much larger and more imposing than the Treasury, but more difficult to access. Of course, whether it was a "monastery" I don't know. I'm not sure whether they know the purpose of this building.

Off to the side is a gift shop and nice place to rest tired legs. This is what it looks like inside.

Always a picture of the King - EVERYWHERE!

Niki and Tobias on our walk back - I finally felt stable enough to walk on my own, although with constant, vigilant awareness of what was beneath my feet!



This was the ankle the first night. It got pretty good and bruised, but this shows some of the swelling. Luckily it has healed fast.

Our camel ride out into the desert of Wadi Rum - one of the famous areas in which Bedouin still live (now mostly a tourist area, and constantly under Jordanian police and military surveillance, since it is close the the Red Sea and easy access for smugglers and sex slave traffickers).


Turns out camels actually do want a drink after their ride in the desert. This water comes down from what is called "Lawrence Spring," since apparently T.E. Lawrence (of Arabia) used it.



Our little jeep (1982 Toyota truck, outfitted for passengers) had some mechanical difficulties, so we got to chat in the desert for quite some time.


Don't worry - lots of jeeps are constantly going and coming, despite how desolate and remote it looks. We hopped in with another group until our guide fixed the jeep and came and got us.

One of the coolest places! All around the area are high, imposing cliff-like mountains. This one has a rift in it, where one can view ancient Nabatean petroglyphs. 

Hobbling carefully through the canyon/rift.

You can just kind of see some of the petroglyphs.




I even tempted fate and scrambled (with a lot of help) up a large rock formation to what is called "the bridge." I don't have a picture from below - I need to get that from Niki. But this is me enjoying the view. See the jeep tracks below?

Our "trusty" jeep and guide, Atullah.

Later we stopped for a splash in the Red Sea. Beaches aren't much to speak of (littered and with rocky/gritty sand), but the water and snorkeling were great! I saw a couple of jellyfish - steered clear of them!

On the way to YW camp, I saw the fabled Costo-Sam's. Awesome! It's so small! And the both of them together - just so awesome! But I also like this pic because of the girl in the car smiling at us.

Some of the camp activities - 3-legged obstacle course.

Crafts. (She looks a little frightening to me.)

We weren't allowed to make a camp fire, so this is the best we could do - small fires in the grilling area. I was chastised the next morning by the camp administration, but it was worth it! The girls loved making fire - who doesn't! And our theme was "Girl on Fire!". How could we not?


I have never seen a tree like this! Look at the red bark (it was even more red than this shows)! Anyone know what kind of tree? Ruth?



We also attempted to make clay oil lamps (you know, from the Ten Virgins parable). This is how mine turned out. Never did have much of a crafty side to me.



Well, that's it for now!