Yes, you read right. Tomorrow at 7 am I will be on the safest airplane on the planet - or one of them, anyway! All Israeli airplanes, including the El-Al flight I'm booked for tomorrow morning, have the anti-missile laser system as standard. So, while wimpy American and European carriers cancel flights, including my own, Israeli grit and ingenuity, like it or hate it, will prevail.
At least, that's how the Israelis view it. And while I rather detest some of the rhetoric and trends going on in Israeli society right now, as well as some of the unconstrained military tactics used against Hamas (although, to be clear, I hate Hamas's cowardly and self-serving tactics much more), I am grateful that Israel does not let uncertain circumstances shut it down. I respect that tenacity, and today, as I prepare to head out, I am very glad for it.
I thought I would put down some final thoughts, but I find myself adrift amidst a sea of thoughts and ambivalence. The vast majority of Israeli society unquestionably supports the current operation, Protective Edge, in Gaza. Even the moderates and the left talk of final victory over the militant organization dedicated to the destruction of the Jewish State. (This without asking how a military can possibly hope to win an ideological war. America couldn't in Vietnam nor in Iraq or Afghanistan. Palestinians are fighting for what they view as their freedom, and Americans and Israelis alike should be among the people of the world most acquainted with the determination of a people fighting for their freedom.) And while the world joins in the humanitarian outcry (somewhat ignorantly, I must say), Israel just digs in deeper, reassuring itself that it has every right and imperative to defend itself. (Israel has seemingly long given up on attempting to convince the world of its right to defend itself - the world seems to believe that hundreds of Jews must die before that becomes an imperative; likewise, many Jews have long given up on the hope that the world will help Israel defend itself, so it doesn't have to do it alone - again, the price is too high, so it takes care of itself.)
I don't know whether there will be a ceasefire soon. I do hope so. Now the death toll has reached well over a thousand in Gaza. The number is so abstract to me, so faceless. So too is the destruction of life and home. I hurt for the people of Gaza in a very removed way, and it bothers me that such destruction and devastation are so impersonal to me. But nor would I prefer it to become personal. I am caught between feeling powerless against such all-encompassing suffering, and not feeling it at all. Recently, I heard that children in Gaza under a certain age will have known nothing but this state of war, of destitution and hatred in their formative years. What will this generation be? How can they ever learn to function in any kind of actual peaceful society? On the flip side, what has generations of threat and isolation, not even to mention residual Holocaust trauma, done in Israel?
What bothers me most is the rise in Jewish Israeli national sentiment expressed in hatred for Arabs - all Arabs. This kind of blind callousness disturbs and disgusts me. Israel, of all people, should be conscious of the dangers of bigotry. I'm all for national pride and supporting those who keep us secure, but to carry it to the demonization of those whose ties to our enemy frighten us, in this case, Arab Israelis - this is unacceptable. Becoming a bully to feel strong is simply masked weakness. It happens and has happened everywhere - and goodness knows the United States certainly in not free of blame in this regard. But I cannot and will not condone it. My social-consciousness cries against it for logical reasons: society cannot carry on, let alone thrive, under such circumstances. But also the very core of my being resists it - I have always been deeply bothered by contention, and I find myself seeking common ground in which to nurture love. Sometimes I feel that this is simply naiveté and talking this way actually reveals my weakness. That may be the case, but I just don't care.
My initial title for this post was going to be something along the lines of Israel as a Jewish and Democratic State. Outlasting conflicts and crises, this seems to be the enduring question in Israel. And everyone has an opinion. Can a modern state call itself Jewish, but still be democratic? What does it mean to be democratic, or Jewish, for that matter? Is a state that is Jewish a theocracy? Is it an ethnocracy? Does this mean that those who are not Jews must forever be relegated to second-class citizens? All these are valid questions, and all kinds of scholars and critics and commentators have weighed in on the topic. I'll say this: Considering that most states have had at least several hundred years to develop and mature, and taking into account Israel's very serious security concerns that have plagued it from the day the British government rolled out of Jerusalem on May 14, 1948, I think one must conclude that Israel does pretty well. No other state, even in enlightened Europe, can boast the kind of democratic record that Israel does. And no state, not one, can claim a clean record regarding its treatment of minorities, ethnic, religious, or otherwise. Israel, although it has a microscope on it all the time and all the world is ready to criticize this Jewish experiment in the world's most coveted Land, does pretty well.
But I fear that "pretty well" is really a crumbling facade masking a deep fissure that may prove Israel's downfall. If it cannot master its security concerns, while maintaining a society in which at least the majority embraces democracy, not bully tactics, it will find itself joining the tide of civil war sweeping across the Middle East. The vast majority of Israel's Arab citizens, while deeply dissatisfied with the social inequality (which is not as great as that in most countries, but does exist) and angry about recent Jewish attacks on innocent and loyal (by all counts) Arab citizens, are generally happy to be citizens of the Jewish State that offers them a much higher standard of living and much greater democracy than any other state in the Middle East. But this summer has convinced me of two things: 1. Israel is becoming much less democratic than it has been; and 2. It's Arab citizens will not take it forever.
On that happy note, I think I'm going to wander down and drop off my cell phone, print off my boarding pass, and get ready to head out.
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Religious tensions in the Holy Land
Yesterday I walked around Jerusalem, in awe as if I were seeing it for the first time. In a way, I was. The city was very nearly empty. The vast majority of the shops were closed in all the areas except for the Jewish Quater, and everywhere I looked, I saw one or two people, locals, walking on their way somewhere - if I saw anyone at all. I hardly knew what to make of it! I remembered that yesterday was Eid al-Fitr, the last day of Ramadan and one of the holiest days of the Muslim year. People were home feasting and celebrating with their families.
And the tourists? They're safely home, having cancelled their flights to Israel because of the chaos going on here. Now, this has major benefits for me personally: I walked right into the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, which is ALWAYS packed with pilgrims kissing the unction stone, or standing in long lines to enter the holy sepulcher. I have visited that church at least five times and have never taken the time to stand in that line and see what that tiny place looks like. But yesterday, I took my chance and walked right in. Those of you who might have been there before know what a rare phenomenon that is!
But, while this is really convenient for me, it is disastrous for Israel's economy, and especially for the local Jerusalem economy that depends on huge numbers of tourists and pilgrims to keep money flowing. Everyone I talk to tells me how difficult the situation is - tour guides, taxi drivers, merchants, etc.
All that, however, is really a tangent from what I want to talk about. One month of conflict, and the tourist economy comes screeching to a halt - or, at best, a slow crawl. This, of course, is the first dam to break in the sequence of events that will effect the economy here. As people feel a lack of security, business and overall economic prosperity in general suffers (although, Israel really does seem to be the exception to this general rule; it remains one of the best countries in which to invest - mostly because of its technology sector, driven my military need). Now, expand that to the West Bank, to Gaza, to the rest of the Middle East right now, and a bleak picture emerges. Lack of economic prosperity leads stagnation and poverty, which provide choice breeding ground for unemployed, anxious young people (mostly men, who culturally feel the need to work most acutely) with nothing better to do than join an extremist cause promising a better life - both for them and for their families. Thus, the worse things are economically, the greater the danger of further conflict - and I'll leave you to fill in the rest of the cycle.
I can think of no place on earth more familiar with conflict than Israel-Palestine and Jerusalem. It is holding a lid on things for the moment, but its history is replete with bloody battles for control of the Holy Land - from the the first historical-religious writings we have in the Old Testament. I often wonder about that. A Land blessed by God, called promised and revered by billions throughout the world and history - and its legacy is one of hate and slaughter and barbarity. And I consider the words of Satan in the Garden - his promise to bring about just the kind of bitter cruelty seen in this ancient land.
Yet, Israel, and particularly Jerusalem, truly boasts a beautiful history of holy events, exalted aspirations and beautiful promises. God's eye is truly on this land. And perhaps it is for this reason that God's enemy also does all he can to foil God's goodness here. Jerusalem is, for me, a microcosm, almost a living metaphor, for this earth's history - God's dealings with man, and Satan's efforts to thwart them. Thus, it holds the most good and gracious, as well as the most depraved and despicable.
That juxtaposition can be seen all over the city, and all over the country. Conflicts develop everywhere that should be places of peace and holiness. The Church of the Holy Sepulcher, whether or not it houses the actual site of our Lord's crucifixion, burial and resurrection, has welcomed billions of Christians throughout the centuries in their quest to celebrate His triumph over the grave. Yet, it has also long been the site of religious contention all its own. The church is claimed by at least six different denominations: Greek Orthodox, Roman Catholic and Armenian are the big ones. (Armenian, you say? Yes, they will proudly tell you that Armenia, although it doesn't exist as a state today, was the first Christian nation, dating their national conversion all the way back to 271 AD. They have been in Jerusalem, and have tenaciously held on to their little section, for almost 2000 years!) The church is carefully divided into sections owned and maintained by the different denominations. For example, the section covering the Hill of Calvary is divided equally between the Greek Orthodox and the Roman Catholics - with a clear division line embedded in the paving stones. The Armenians own the chapel below the church, said to be the place that Helena, mother of Constantine, discovered the wooden cross that led her to claim it with certainty as Jesus' site of crucifixion. The sepulcher itself is owned by the Greek Orthodox, but a small alcove in the back of the small chapel covering the sepulcher belongs to the Copts from Egypt.
Bitter contests for jurisdiction over this and other holy sites have resulted in actual fist fights among the priests in recent decades. Currently, a careful status quo maintains the peace. A local Palestinian (Muslim) family holds the keys to the church, so that no one denomination claims superiority, and they open it each day. (This was set in place during the Ottoman period.) Each denomination has a set time for their processionals and worship services, and some parts still under contestation remain under a careful status quo. For example, a priest of the Ethiopian Christian church sits on a chair (rotating between the priests) on a certain part of the roof all day long, just to maintain their claim to that part of the roof. The most famous example of this careful status quo is the famous "immovable ladder." No one knows exactly when this ladder, which stands just under the right window above the entrance to the church, was first put there. Most speculate that this particular ladder is from the 1850s. It was used to allow Armenian monks to come out to haul up food and supplies into their area of the church, since they couldn't come in from the entrance and up the stairs. But as tensions increased in the 1800s, arguments over moving or removing the ladder (because, moving or working on any part of the church is a claim to ownership) became fierce, and a status quo agreement dictates that it remain in its place. That agreement stands today, although the ladder was removed anonymously for a short time, probably as a prank.
Even within the Greek Orthodox patriarchate, fierce contentions over who is the current patriarch have led the last patriarch, who was voted out because he was seen as a puppet of the State of Israel by local Palestinian christians, locked himself in his room and remains under self-imposed house arrest. If he leaves, he steps down. The new patriarch has been in place for two years, but is not technically the official patriarch.
Such tensions also arise in Nazareth over holy sites, and in a broader picture regarding Muslim and Christian Arabs. Since 1948, when thousands of Muslims ran from their homes during the war of Independence (or Naqba - "catastrophe" for local Arabs), many of them sought refuge in Nazareth, which the Jews had promised to leave alone. It had long been an Arab Christian village, but has since become a Muslim city. The Basilica of the Anunciation, the largest church in Israel, was built in 1961, and it towers on the hillside, visible from almost anywhere in Nazareth. The Muslims quickly sought permission to build a mosque next to it, the minaret of which would rise above the steeple of the Basilica. The mosque at first received approval, but through the pleadings of the Franciscan leadership in Israel, it has been stalled. Still, every Friday, Muslims in Nazareth gather to the place where the mosque is to be built, and do their praying from there.
And so it goes. I do not mention all these conflicts to mock or belittle sincere belief and desire for validation. I respect religious belief and diversity. Yet, it is this very human trait, the need to believe and to be right, that makes this land so peculiar, as the symbol of hopes and convictions that crowd out peace and shared humanity. Part of why I write this is to indicate that it is not merely conflict between Jews and Muslims that defines conflict in this Land. It is a place of equal-opportunity conflict. Indeed, those who refuse to participate in organized religion have only to look at the Holy Land to point out how religion can seem to be anything but holy.
Pictures below.
And the tourists? They're safely home, having cancelled their flights to Israel because of the chaos going on here. Now, this has major benefits for me personally: I walked right into the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, which is ALWAYS packed with pilgrims kissing the unction stone, or standing in long lines to enter the holy sepulcher. I have visited that church at least five times and have never taken the time to stand in that line and see what that tiny place looks like. But yesterday, I took my chance and walked right in. Those of you who might have been there before know what a rare phenomenon that is!
But, while this is really convenient for me, it is disastrous for Israel's economy, and especially for the local Jerusalem economy that depends on huge numbers of tourists and pilgrims to keep money flowing. Everyone I talk to tells me how difficult the situation is - tour guides, taxi drivers, merchants, etc.
All that, however, is really a tangent from what I want to talk about. One month of conflict, and the tourist economy comes screeching to a halt - or, at best, a slow crawl. This, of course, is the first dam to break in the sequence of events that will effect the economy here. As people feel a lack of security, business and overall economic prosperity in general suffers (although, Israel really does seem to be the exception to this general rule; it remains one of the best countries in which to invest - mostly because of its technology sector, driven my military need). Now, expand that to the West Bank, to Gaza, to the rest of the Middle East right now, and a bleak picture emerges. Lack of economic prosperity leads stagnation and poverty, which provide choice breeding ground for unemployed, anxious young people (mostly men, who culturally feel the need to work most acutely) with nothing better to do than join an extremist cause promising a better life - both for them and for their families. Thus, the worse things are economically, the greater the danger of further conflict - and I'll leave you to fill in the rest of the cycle.
I can think of no place on earth more familiar with conflict than Israel-Palestine and Jerusalem. It is holding a lid on things for the moment, but its history is replete with bloody battles for control of the Holy Land - from the the first historical-religious writings we have in the Old Testament. I often wonder about that. A Land blessed by God, called promised and revered by billions throughout the world and history - and its legacy is one of hate and slaughter and barbarity. And I consider the words of Satan in the Garden - his promise to bring about just the kind of bitter cruelty seen in this ancient land.
Yet, Israel, and particularly Jerusalem, truly boasts a beautiful history of holy events, exalted aspirations and beautiful promises. God's eye is truly on this land. And perhaps it is for this reason that God's enemy also does all he can to foil God's goodness here. Jerusalem is, for me, a microcosm, almost a living metaphor, for this earth's history - God's dealings with man, and Satan's efforts to thwart them. Thus, it holds the most good and gracious, as well as the most depraved and despicable.
That juxtaposition can be seen all over the city, and all over the country. Conflicts develop everywhere that should be places of peace and holiness. The Church of the Holy Sepulcher, whether or not it houses the actual site of our Lord's crucifixion, burial and resurrection, has welcomed billions of Christians throughout the centuries in their quest to celebrate His triumph over the grave. Yet, it has also long been the site of religious contention all its own. The church is claimed by at least six different denominations: Greek Orthodox, Roman Catholic and Armenian are the big ones. (Armenian, you say? Yes, they will proudly tell you that Armenia, although it doesn't exist as a state today, was the first Christian nation, dating their national conversion all the way back to 271 AD. They have been in Jerusalem, and have tenaciously held on to their little section, for almost 2000 years!) The church is carefully divided into sections owned and maintained by the different denominations. For example, the section covering the Hill of Calvary is divided equally between the Greek Orthodox and the Roman Catholics - with a clear division line embedded in the paving stones. The Armenians own the chapel below the church, said to be the place that Helena, mother of Constantine, discovered the wooden cross that led her to claim it with certainty as Jesus' site of crucifixion. The sepulcher itself is owned by the Greek Orthodox, but a small alcove in the back of the small chapel covering the sepulcher belongs to the Copts from Egypt.
Bitter contests for jurisdiction over this and other holy sites have resulted in actual fist fights among the priests in recent decades. Currently, a careful status quo maintains the peace. A local Palestinian (Muslim) family holds the keys to the church, so that no one denomination claims superiority, and they open it each day. (This was set in place during the Ottoman period.) Each denomination has a set time for their processionals and worship services, and some parts still under contestation remain under a careful status quo. For example, a priest of the Ethiopian Christian church sits on a chair (rotating between the priests) on a certain part of the roof all day long, just to maintain their claim to that part of the roof. The most famous example of this careful status quo is the famous "immovable ladder." No one knows exactly when this ladder, which stands just under the right window above the entrance to the church, was first put there. Most speculate that this particular ladder is from the 1850s. It was used to allow Armenian monks to come out to haul up food and supplies into their area of the church, since they couldn't come in from the entrance and up the stairs. But as tensions increased in the 1800s, arguments over moving or removing the ladder (because, moving or working on any part of the church is a claim to ownership) became fierce, and a status quo agreement dictates that it remain in its place. That agreement stands today, although the ladder was removed anonymously for a short time, probably as a prank.
Even within the Greek Orthodox patriarchate, fierce contentions over who is the current patriarch have led the last patriarch, who was voted out because he was seen as a puppet of the State of Israel by local Palestinian christians, locked himself in his room and remains under self-imposed house arrest. If he leaves, he steps down. The new patriarch has been in place for two years, but is not technically the official patriarch.
Such tensions also arise in Nazareth over holy sites, and in a broader picture regarding Muslim and Christian Arabs. Since 1948, when thousands of Muslims ran from their homes during the war of Independence (or Naqba - "catastrophe" for local Arabs), many of them sought refuge in Nazareth, which the Jews had promised to leave alone. It had long been an Arab Christian village, but has since become a Muslim city. The Basilica of the Anunciation, the largest church in Israel, was built in 1961, and it towers on the hillside, visible from almost anywhere in Nazareth. The Muslims quickly sought permission to build a mosque next to it, the minaret of which would rise above the steeple of the Basilica. The mosque at first received approval, but through the pleadings of the Franciscan leadership in Israel, it has been stalled. Still, every Friday, Muslims in Nazareth gather to the place where the mosque is to be built, and do their praying from there.
And so it goes. I do not mention all these conflicts to mock or belittle sincere belief and desire for validation. I respect religious belief and diversity. Yet, it is this very human trait, the need to believe and to be right, that makes this land so peculiar, as the symbol of hopes and convictions that crowd out peace and shared humanity. Part of why I write this is to indicate that it is not merely conflict between Jews and Muslims that defines conflict in this Land. It is a place of equal-opportunity conflict. Indeed, those who refuse to participate in organized religion have only to look at the Holy Land to point out how religion can seem to be anything but holy.
Pictures below.
This is the old man whom I befriended on my way to the pharmacy to pick up some amoxicillin for my throat.
This is the corner of the street where I was staying in East Jerusalem. They pull out the dumpsters to act as barricades, and then light the trash on fire inside. It was still there in the morning when I left to head north.
The police still hanging around to keep the peace.
Notice the smoke (if you can see it) coming from the dumpster. Yes, it was still on fire from the riots the night before.
Sitting at the Hippodrome at Caesaria.
Catching the surf at Caesaria.
Hanging out at the beach - where I think I picked up fleas.
Ancient Roman aqueduct leading to Caesaria.
At the Ophir overlook, in the Golan, enjoying the view of the Sea of Galilee.
Traveling up north with my new friends from church. We visited Migdal (Magdala), where we found some excavations of an ancient synagogue, as well as this beautiful Franciscan church, completed just earlier this year, and dedicated to the women of the New Testament. Each pillar has the name of one of those women, but this pillar remains empty, as a tribute to women everywhere.
One of the mosaics in the church. This one is of Jesus casting the devils out of Mary.
I wanted to share my misery with you. I have been attacked by fleas, I think. I have more than 40 bites all over my body, and they itch somethin' turrible!
Walking through the empty streets of Jerusalem.
Entrance to Church of the Holy Sepulcher - notice how empty the plaza is!
The famous ladder, mentioned above.
It is an Orthodox tradition to burn candles at holy sites and as part of holy rituals. These are just outside of the Holy Sepulcher.
Crusader-era stone, Church of the Holy Sepulcher.
Church of the Holy Sepulcher, St. Helen's (Armenian) chapel.
Bells as I passed them on the way up to the top of the tower.
View of Jerusalem from the tower of the Church of the Redeemer (Lutheran). Yes, I climbed all the stairs to the top! I was good and sweaty and enjoying the breeze from up there!
Looking down on the Church of the Holy Sepulcher from the tower of the Church of the Redeemer.
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
All is quiet in Jerusalem...and that's not necessarily a good thing
I woke up to news that a rocket landed near Tel Aviv, and the FAA has suspended all flights to Israel for 24 hours. No one was directly injured from the rocket. Initially I almost felt grateful that the rocket had landed. A couple of days ago an Israel missile expert had claimed he was certain that rockets weren't even coming from Gaza at all - or at least not in the numbers Israel was claiming. It was a conspiracy to give legitimacy to the ground invasion to Gaza. He said no missile system on earth can shoot rockets out of the air that way, so it must be a conspiracy. He is a well-respected expert, and his words were troubling to me. Then this rocket hits (and others have hit as well, before the controversy of this little conspiracy theory), and my faith is restored. Of course, no one was injured, while each day dozens of Gazans are killed or injured. So perhaps I'm simply looking for validations of my faith.
Still, I can't just sweep the situation aside. I also learned today that the UN human rights committee is meeting to discuss whether Israel has committed war crimes. I am utterly horrified by the high death toll in Gaza, as I have been by past conflicts between Israel and Gaza. Yet, I would be much more likely to take this UN committee seriously if Hamas was even mentioned. It is not. No wonder Israel has no confidence in the friendly hand the world, particularly the UN, extends it. No wonder it feels the need to act unilaterally in its own defense. Assuming that conspiracy theories are not a valid way to judge the situation, hundreds of rockets have been launched from Gaza, each with the power to take dozens of lives. The fact that they haven't done so is evidence of Israel's technological advancement, not Hamas's innocence! And this is not to mention the fact that the death toll is as high as it is, at least in part, because Hamas leaders hide the rockets and launch sites in homes, hospitals, schools, etc, and urge people NOT to leave when Israel warns them they are going to strike. They encourage the high loss of life, so that they remain the victims, and Israel the aggressor. I am not so much surprised by Hamas's strategy as I am by the international community's willingness to buy into it. THAT entirely astounds me.
July and August are generally quiet months for tourism in Israel. I didn't expect this. I do know that they are hot months, but they are vacation months - at least in the US. But I guess October-November, then March-June are the high periods. Even still, Jerusalem is very quiet. This is for a number of reasons, I believe. First, in addition to the normal drop off, tourism has all but come to a standstill. At first, people were willing to come and hope the conflict would die down. Now, they are canceling reservations in droves. My tour guide friends that I have been visiting with (for my research) have commented on the number of cancelations they have had and the hit it is to their business. They are the front line.
Jerusalem is also quiet because the Arab Israelis announced Monday that they were striking as an act of solidarity of the Palestinians of Gaza. In the news report I read, it said that all factions of Palestinians were in agreement. My personal experience is otherwise. I did find it difficult to get anything to eat for lunch yesterday - all the restaurants were indeed closed. They're closed every day. It's Ramadan. (It is rather annoying to be a non-Muslim in East Jerusalem during Ramadan. So difficult to get a meal during daylight hours!) The clothing, toy, computer shops were all open and replete with customers. Likewise, my taxi driver Monday lectured me diligently on the evils of Hamas and the tragedy of the people in Gaza captive to their leadership. (All this in Hebrew, although he was quick to point out that he was a Muslim himself.)
Yet, at night Jerusalem is NOT quiet. At least, not here in East Jerusalem. There are still a few riots, although they are not large enough to merit comment. Mostly my complaint is people out partying into the wee hours of the night. After all, during Ramadan, it is the moonlit hours that count. I hear their cars honking and people yelling and singing out my window all hours of the night. Oh, and don't get me started on the bone-jarring canon that announces the going down of the sun, for dinner, and the time for breakfast before the sun rises (7:45 pm and 4:10 am, respectively). That cursed blast must be fired from somewhere near my hotel - it sends bolts of adrenaline through me every time!
I had the opportunity to walk through the quiet streets of the Old City last night, after a very productive meeting with a tour guide. I stopped off at a restaurant to grab some dinner. I was the only client. As I sat there waiting for my carry out chicken shishlek (basically just chunks of chicken char broiled), I heard an unexpected sound: a harmonica. That is distinctly NOT Arab or Jewish, in the traditional sense. Then I heard the pinched voice of Bob Dylan rattle off, "How many roads can a man walk down..." I guess someone in the kitchen likes American folk music.
After I grabbed my food I began walking back toward Damascus gate - about a 10 minute walk. The little passageways were almost empty. Most of the shops were closed, but the ones that were open had several people, almost entirely men, huddled around a metal tray of food, eating hungrily. Not everyone was enjoying their Iftar in a group. I happened to make the mistake of looking up at a sign giving directions just as I passed a young Arab. He asked where I was trying to get to, and I said Damascus Gate. He told me to take the third left, then asked where I was from and began a conversation. He wanted to show me his shop and give me a gift. Darn it! When am I going to just stop being nice and say I don't want to see your *&^% shop! (It was open to the street - I didn't go into any back rooms, at least!) He gave me a set of earrings, and then proceeded to show me how the Bedouin greet each other with a hug. It quickly became apparent that this was more than a Bedouin greeting. I told him this made me uncomfortable, tried to give back the earrings (he wouldn't take them), and left. I got away with a mere groping and attempted kiss (he got my cheek as I pulled away).
I stewed the whole way back, my key in hand ready to slash anyone who got too close again. (I made it home without any other incident.) I was so angry - at myself, at the fact that my natural kindness and inquisitiveness is merely weakness, when I want it to be a strength; but also, and especially at this young man and a culture in which women are objects. I will admit, the longer I'm here, the more the treatment of women in Islam bothers me. Almost all the Muslim women I see here are in the hijab. Some of these hijabs are very beautiful, and the women are able to find ways to express their individuality. But I know many of them (from personal conversations), really hate having to put it on every time they leave the house. I also recognize that many of them put it on for the same reasons I wear my garments every day and don't wear short shorts or tank tops: it's a choice as an expression of what I believe. However, for many of them, it is not a choice. If they are out and about, their husbands hear of it. Their husbands own them. (I should point out here that the ultra-Orthodox Jewish culture in relation to women also bothers me. Women cast aside in a divorce because they can't bear children; unable to testify of a rape because the Old Testament does not give women the right to stand as a witness; women compelled to work, in addition to bearing and caring for several children, to support their husbands as they focus all their time and energy on Torah study.) This irritation has been further exacerbated by the fact that, although only recently (not sure why), I have seen various women with the full burka (full black dress, covering head and face, with a small slit for eyes). No individuality whatsoever. Perhaps she chooses it - it is not imposed on her. I don't know. And perhaps I'm only revealing my narrow-mindedness here. (There is a wide range of opinions and experiences among women as to their relation to their faith and the expectations/requirements it places on them.) If I am, I apologize and do hope for experiences that open my mind. For now, it really bothers me. And if I see that "Bedouin" guy again, I simply won't even acknowledge him. It is my right to act and not be acted upon.
Well, enough ranting. I have a busy day ahead. But I'm looking forward to it. My research is going quite well, under the circumstances. I believe I am over the Strep (did I mention I got Strep? Thank goodness it didn't move to my ears - we all know the history of infections and my ears!), and I'm raring to go.
Still, I can't just sweep the situation aside. I also learned today that the UN human rights committee is meeting to discuss whether Israel has committed war crimes. I am utterly horrified by the high death toll in Gaza, as I have been by past conflicts between Israel and Gaza. Yet, I would be much more likely to take this UN committee seriously if Hamas was even mentioned. It is not. No wonder Israel has no confidence in the friendly hand the world, particularly the UN, extends it. No wonder it feels the need to act unilaterally in its own defense. Assuming that conspiracy theories are not a valid way to judge the situation, hundreds of rockets have been launched from Gaza, each with the power to take dozens of lives. The fact that they haven't done so is evidence of Israel's technological advancement, not Hamas's innocence! And this is not to mention the fact that the death toll is as high as it is, at least in part, because Hamas leaders hide the rockets and launch sites in homes, hospitals, schools, etc, and urge people NOT to leave when Israel warns them they are going to strike. They encourage the high loss of life, so that they remain the victims, and Israel the aggressor. I am not so much surprised by Hamas's strategy as I am by the international community's willingness to buy into it. THAT entirely astounds me.
July and August are generally quiet months for tourism in Israel. I didn't expect this. I do know that they are hot months, but they are vacation months - at least in the US. But I guess October-November, then March-June are the high periods. Even still, Jerusalem is very quiet. This is for a number of reasons, I believe. First, in addition to the normal drop off, tourism has all but come to a standstill. At first, people were willing to come and hope the conflict would die down. Now, they are canceling reservations in droves. My tour guide friends that I have been visiting with (for my research) have commented on the number of cancelations they have had and the hit it is to their business. They are the front line.
Jerusalem is also quiet because the Arab Israelis announced Monday that they were striking as an act of solidarity of the Palestinians of Gaza. In the news report I read, it said that all factions of Palestinians were in agreement. My personal experience is otherwise. I did find it difficult to get anything to eat for lunch yesterday - all the restaurants were indeed closed. They're closed every day. It's Ramadan. (It is rather annoying to be a non-Muslim in East Jerusalem during Ramadan. So difficult to get a meal during daylight hours!) The clothing, toy, computer shops were all open and replete with customers. Likewise, my taxi driver Monday lectured me diligently on the evils of Hamas and the tragedy of the people in Gaza captive to their leadership. (All this in Hebrew, although he was quick to point out that he was a Muslim himself.)
Yet, at night Jerusalem is NOT quiet. At least, not here in East Jerusalem. There are still a few riots, although they are not large enough to merit comment. Mostly my complaint is people out partying into the wee hours of the night. After all, during Ramadan, it is the moonlit hours that count. I hear their cars honking and people yelling and singing out my window all hours of the night. Oh, and don't get me started on the bone-jarring canon that announces the going down of the sun, for dinner, and the time for breakfast before the sun rises (7:45 pm and 4:10 am, respectively). That cursed blast must be fired from somewhere near my hotel - it sends bolts of adrenaline through me every time!
I had the opportunity to walk through the quiet streets of the Old City last night, after a very productive meeting with a tour guide. I stopped off at a restaurant to grab some dinner. I was the only client. As I sat there waiting for my carry out chicken shishlek (basically just chunks of chicken char broiled), I heard an unexpected sound: a harmonica. That is distinctly NOT Arab or Jewish, in the traditional sense. Then I heard the pinched voice of Bob Dylan rattle off, "How many roads can a man walk down..." I guess someone in the kitchen likes American folk music.
After I grabbed my food I began walking back toward Damascus gate - about a 10 minute walk. The little passageways were almost empty. Most of the shops were closed, but the ones that were open had several people, almost entirely men, huddled around a metal tray of food, eating hungrily. Not everyone was enjoying their Iftar in a group. I happened to make the mistake of looking up at a sign giving directions just as I passed a young Arab. He asked where I was trying to get to, and I said Damascus Gate. He told me to take the third left, then asked where I was from and began a conversation. He wanted to show me his shop and give me a gift. Darn it! When am I going to just stop being nice and say I don't want to see your *&^% shop! (It was open to the street - I didn't go into any back rooms, at least!) He gave me a set of earrings, and then proceeded to show me how the Bedouin greet each other with a hug. It quickly became apparent that this was more than a Bedouin greeting. I told him this made me uncomfortable, tried to give back the earrings (he wouldn't take them), and left. I got away with a mere groping and attempted kiss (he got my cheek as I pulled away).
I stewed the whole way back, my key in hand ready to slash anyone who got too close again. (I made it home without any other incident.) I was so angry - at myself, at the fact that my natural kindness and inquisitiveness is merely weakness, when I want it to be a strength; but also, and especially at this young man and a culture in which women are objects. I will admit, the longer I'm here, the more the treatment of women in Islam bothers me. Almost all the Muslim women I see here are in the hijab. Some of these hijabs are very beautiful, and the women are able to find ways to express their individuality. But I know many of them (from personal conversations), really hate having to put it on every time they leave the house. I also recognize that many of them put it on for the same reasons I wear my garments every day and don't wear short shorts or tank tops: it's a choice as an expression of what I believe. However, for many of them, it is not a choice. If they are out and about, their husbands hear of it. Their husbands own them. (I should point out here that the ultra-Orthodox Jewish culture in relation to women also bothers me. Women cast aside in a divorce because they can't bear children; unable to testify of a rape because the Old Testament does not give women the right to stand as a witness; women compelled to work, in addition to bearing and caring for several children, to support their husbands as they focus all their time and energy on Torah study.) This irritation has been further exacerbated by the fact that, although only recently (not sure why), I have seen various women with the full burka (full black dress, covering head and face, with a small slit for eyes). No individuality whatsoever. Perhaps she chooses it - it is not imposed on her. I don't know. And perhaps I'm only revealing my narrow-mindedness here. (There is a wide range of opinions and experiences among women as to their relation to their faith and the expectations/requirements it places on them.) If I am, I apologize and do hope for experiences that open my mind. For now, it really bothers me. And if I see that "Bedouin" guy again, I simply won't even acknowledge him. It is my right to act and not be acted upon.
Well, enough ranting. I have a busy day ahead. But I'm looking forward to it. My research is going quite well, under the circumstances. I believe I am over the Strep (did I mention I got Strep? Thank goodness it didn't move to my ears - we all know the history of infections and my ears!), and I'm raring to go.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
The Way of the Unicorn
I began this post while I was in Nazareth about 5 days ago. At the time, all I had time to say was, "All is quiet and nice." And it was. I like Nazareth. Much less racket than Jerusalem; much less shouting and heckling you through the market. (My least favorite heckles are, in this order: 1. You beautiful American woman - you don't want rich Arab husband? I give 50 camels for you! (My reasons for hating this must be evident, but not the least of them is that he uses the ridiculous western trope of Arabs trading camels for a wife in order to get my attention.); 2. Excuse me! (As if I've dropped something and have to turn around and come into his shop to get it.); 3. Just come look at my shop! 4. Hello, welcome. (That one's not so bad - at least it's easy to ignore.).
ANYWAY. Back in Jerusalem, and things are not nice and quiet. Oh, I haven't seen any rioting or been disturbed by any rockets. Muslims are just so loud at all hours of the night during Ramadan! How is one to get a proper sleep!? And someone is doing some kind of construction work below me that consists of a screeching saw cutting through concrete or rock - at 6 am! Soon you may read about a red-head riot in east Jerusalem!
As you may have noticed, I have titled this post "The Way of the Unicorn." While I have often used the way of the unicorn as a method for exploring and getting around, I only learned the proper name two years ago from my friend Emily Fine. It generally refers to travel in which you do not have GPS or other specific means of getting to your destination (you may have consulted a map beforehand, but do not use it during the actual travel - at least, this is my interpretation; Emily, you may clarify as need be); but you do have a destination in mind, and you allow yourself the possibility of getting a little lost in the process, but have faith that you will arrive eventually. This was my mode of travel last week. It was quite an adventure! And sometimes, just an effective means of producing intense frustration!
I rented a car to go up north to the Galilee region last week. Renting a car in Israel is actually quite cheap (it's the gas prices that will kill you!), and I had quite a few places I needed to get to, including a visit up to Tzfat with my friend Keren, so I felt fine renting it for four days. However, when I asked about renting a GPS, they informed me that they no longer offer GPS - just an Ipad that acts as a wifi hotspot, from which you can use google maps. Well, that sounded all fine and well for me, but then she told me it was 80 shekels/day (that's approximately $27). I dithered about it for a few moments, then decided my budget couldn't take it. And I'm a competent driver/map-follower!
So, the way of the unicorn it was! Now, I had a meeting that afternoon with a professor at a little college just south of Lake Galilee called Kinneret College. I had taken down relatively good google map directions, and I knew which roads I needed to take (by name, and by their place on the map). I was set!
We-hell! Israel had some surprises for me! One of them is that, once you're out of the more populous areas (Jerusalem-Tel Aviv), road signs are a luxury not to be indulged often. I had already gotten behind in my trip up north, and then got twisted around in some Arab cities (in the northern part of Israel, 50% of the residents are Arab) that do NOT do much for road signs, and the beaten path does not look any more beaten than any other possible turn at the 500th round-about. I called the secretary of the professor, trying to assuage my severe stress by reminding myself that Israelis are really laid-back and often late. They would understand. She told me he had a meeting right after mine. I got off the phone with her, let a few choice words fly, repented immediately and prayed. What else could I do?
The final major city before heading off on Route 70 (I still remember!) down to Bet Shean and then the little Kibbutz where the college called home, was Afula. I think I will forever despise the name Afula after this day. Once you get in, it is like the Hotel California. No road signs, and certainly nothing pointing to Route 70! Well, I take that back. One sign pointed toward Bet Shean, which I knew I needed, but after following that road for a bit, I passed another sign that indicated Bet Shean, exactly the opposite direction. I drove up and down that strip looking for some sort of sign telling me to turn or something. Nope, it was a mystery. I drove all over that city looking for helpful signs. All I found was one "Welcome to Afula" sign after another - as if I kept entering it from different angles without knowing I'd left.
I called the secretary again, now over an hour late, and told her I was desperately sorry and would have to try to reschedule. We did, and I made it the next day (I pointed avoided Afula in my google maps preparations). But not before I shed a few tears and hurled a few nasty insults at this cursed town. Fortunately, it was much easier to make it to Nazareth, where I stayed at the Fauzi Azar again - and found the peace and quiet I needed that night.
The next day, after a good meeting with the professor, I decided to use the rest of the day to explore. I had driven past a road that led up to the Golan Heights, so I decided to see how that looked from up there. It was breathtaking! I drove all over, hiked along the Israel National Trail for a bit. Afterward, I stopped at a cafe and ordered a delightful meal of Asian Pad Thai, all in Hebrew. I was rather proud of myself. I spent some time visiting the Jordan River baptismal site, Yardenit, where, I will admit, I got a little carried away looking at souvenirs. I don't mean to be entirely academically cynical, but I do chuckle at some of the souvenirs. Scented anointing oil? Water from the Jordan River? I mean, water in a river is, by nature, transitory. And the likelihood of this being the actual site that the baptism of Jesus Christ took place is rather minimal. But, already I am exposing my cynicism. I have been chastised about this before.
I got back and decided, instead of going up to my hostel, I'd wander and find some dinner in Nazareth. My cheap chicken kebab and salad lived up to their price, so I left most of it on the plate and went in search of the gelato place I had seen the night before (when I splurged on a delicious "Italian" meal that also lived up to its steep price). The Arab Israeli guy who owned the shop invited me to sit and enjoy the ice cream out in the cool evening air with him and his friends. They spoke English quite well and we chatted for an hour or so before I thought it best to get back to the hostel - and the bathroom. I realized I hadn't visited the facilities for over 5 hours. As I walked back in mild discomfort, I pondered on the benefits of perspiring like the wicked witch of the west doused in water: you don't have to pee much, and can go eat dinner, then an ice cream cone, sit with your new Arab friends and talk for an hour, all on a bladder that had to go from the outset, and hadn't seen a welcoming round porcelain bowl for 5 hours. This, with a historically weak bladder - but we won't go into that.
The conversation with my friends in Nazareth was very interesting. They were all Christians, but from three different faiths. One was Catholic, one Orthodox, and one Anglican. They spoke of the religious tensions with the Muslims, but also within the Christian denominations. Nazareth has historically been a Christian city, until recently. The reason for the Muslim takeover is simply one of family size. Christians (who are some of the best educated and most financially successful people in Israel) tend to have smaller families, with 2-3 children. Muslims, they complained, just kept having children, without any concern about whether they could care for them. This issue is epitomized in the recent controversy over the Muslim plan to build a huge mosque, with a tall minaret to overshadow the crown jewel of Nazareth, the Basilica of the Annunciation, next to which it was supposed to stand. The State of Israel prevented the mosque from being built.
The inter-denominational Christian battles are no less rancorous. Although they do not reach the level of stalemate that you find in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, where a ladder has remained under the same window for 150 years, since anyone moving it would constitute changing or fixing something, which would constitute "ownership," and the other denominations would never permit that; still, I understand some tensions continue. "Why can't we all just remember that we believe in the same Jesus?" one of them asked me. Indeed. But the history of Christianity clearly illustrates the inability to do so.
The next day I drove up to Haifa, where I met my friend Keren. I had pored exhaustively over the google maps to ensure that there was no possibility of my getting lost - but it was to no avail. Lack of street signs again. However, truly the force of the unicorn was with me (in reality, I'm pretty sure that it was my deep and sincere morning prayer begging not to get lost in Haifa). I never found the street I was supposed to turn on to find the Bahai Gardens, but when I turned on a street that said it had a tourist information booth, I found myself looking directly at the very gardens I was looking for! After that, it was a matter of keeping that as my goal and driving around and up the hill until I found the entrance I was looking for.
Keren and I then drove up to Tzfat (Safed, near Lebanon) without too much difficulty. Our hotel was lovely - an old home renovated and made into a hotel. The city was a lot of fun - I loved the artist district, where I splurged and bought a small painting and several post cards of other paintings. And now, the unicorn has returned me safe and sound to the noise and chaos of Jerusalem. I do, however, think I have a cold. Not loving that.
Well, friends, until next time.
ANYWAY. Back in Jerusalem, and things are not nice and quiet. Oh, I haven't seen any rioting or been disturbed by any rockets. Muslims are just so loud at all hours of the night during Ramadan! How is one to get a proper sleep!? And someone is doing some kind of construction work below me that consists of a screeching saw cutting through concrete or rock - at 6 am! Soon you may read about a red-head riot in east Jerusalem!
As you may have noticed, I have titled this post "The Way of the Unicorn." While I have often used the way of the unicorn as a method for exploring and getting around, I only learned the proper name two years ago from my friend Emily Fine. It generally refers to travel in which you do not have GPS or other specific means of getting to your destination (you may have consulted a map beforehand, but do not use it during the actual travel - at least, this is my interpretation; Emily, you may clarify as need be); but you do have a destination in mind, and you allow yourself the possibility of getting a little lost in the process, but have faith that you will arrive eventually. This was my mode of travel last week. It was quite an adventure! And sometimes, just an effective means of producing intense frustration!
I rented a car to go up north to the Galilee region last week. Renting a car in Israel is actually quite cheap (it's the gas prices that will kill you!), and I had quite a few places I needed to get to, including a visit up to Tzfat with my friend Keren, so I felt fine renting it for four days. However, when I asked about renting a GPS, they informed me that they no longer offer GPS - just an Ipad that acts as a wifi hotspot, from which you can use google maps. Well, that sounded all fine and well for me, but then she told me it was 80 shekels/day (that's approximately $27). I dithered about it for a few moments, then decided my budget couldn't take it. And I'm a competent driver/map-follower!
So, the way of the unicorn it was! Now, I had a meeting that afternoon with a professor at a little college just south of Lake Galilee called Kinneret College. I had taken down relatively good google map directions, and I knew which roads I needed to take (by name, and by their place on the map). I was set!
We-hell! Israel had some surprises for me! One of them is that, once you're out of the more populous areas (Jerusalem-Tel Aviv), road signs are a luxury not to be indulged often. I had already gotten behind in my trip up north, and then got twisted around in some Arab cities (in the northern part of Israel, 50% of the residents are Arab) that do NOT do much for road signs, and the beaten path does not look any more beaten than any other possible turn at the 500th round-about. I called the secretary of the professor, trying to assuage my severe stress by reminding myself that Israelis are really laid-back and often late. They would understand. She told me he had a meeting right after mine. I got off the phone with her, let a few choice words fly, repented immediately and prayed. What else could I do?
The final major city before heading off on Route 70 (I still remember!) down to Bet Shean and then the little Kibbutz where the college called home, was Afula. I think I will forever despise the name Afula after this day. Once you get in, it is like the Hotel California. No road signs, and certainly nothing pointing to Route 70! Well, I take that back. One sign pointed toward Bet Shean, which I knew I needed, but after following that road for a bit, I passed another sign that indicated Bet Shean, exactly the opposite direction. I drove up and down that strip looking for some sort of sign telling me to turn or something. Nope, it was a mystery. I drove all over that city looking for helpful signs. All I found was one "Welcome to Afula" sign after another - as if I kept entering it from different angles without knowing I'd left.
I called the secretary again, now over an hour late, and told her I was desperately sorry and would have to try to reschedule. We did, and I made it the next day (I pointed avoided Afula in my google maps preparations). But not before I shed a few tears and hurled a few nasty insults at this cursed town. Fortunately, it was much easier to make it to Nazareth, where I stayed at the Fauzi Azar again - and found the peace and quiet I needed that night.
The next day, after a good meeting with the professor, I decided to use the rest of the day to explore. I had driven past a road that led up to the Golan Heights, so I decided to see how that looked from up there. It was breathtaking! I drove all over, hiked along the Israel National Trail for a bit. Afterward, I stopped at a cafe and ordered a delightful meal of Asian Pad Thai, all in Hebrew. I was rather proud of myself. I spent some time visiting the Jordan River baptismal site, Yardenit, where, I will admit, I got a little carried away looking at souvenirs. I don't mean to be entirely academically cynical, but I do chuckle at some of the souvenirs. Scented anointing oil? Water from the Jordan River? I mean, water in a river is, by nature, transitory. And the likelihood of this being the actual site that the baptism of Jesus Christ took place is rather minimal. But, already I am exposing my cynicism. I have been chastised about this before.
I got back and decided, instead of going up to my hostel, I'd wander and find some dinner in Nazareth. My cheap chicken kebab and salad lived up to their price, so I left most of it on the plate and went in search of the gelato place I had seen the night before (when I splurged on a delicious "Italian" meal that also lived up to its steep price). The Arab Israeli guy who owned the shop invited me to sit and enjoy the ice cream out in the cool evening air with him and his friends. They spoke English quite well and we chatted for an hour or so before I thought it best to get back to the hostel - and the bathroom. I realized I hadn't visited the facilities for over 5 hours. As I walked back in mild discomfort, I pondered on the benefits of perspiring like the wicked witch of the west doused in water: you don't have to pee much, and can go eat dinner, then an ice cream cone, sit with your new Arab friends and talk for an hour, all on a bladder that had to go from the outset, and hadn't seen a welcoming round porcelain bowl for 5 hours. This, with a historically weak bladder - but we won't go into that.
The conversation with my friends in Nazareth was very interesting. They were all Christians, but from three different faiths. One was Catholic, one Orthodox, and one Anglican. They spoke of the religious tensions with the Muslims, but also within the Christian denominations. Nazareth has historically been a Christian city, until recently. The reason for the Muslim takeover is simply one of family size. Christians (who are some of the best educated and most financially successful people in Israel) tend to have smaller families, with 2-3 children. Muslims, they complained, just kept having children, without any concern about whether they could care for them. This issue is epitomized in the recent controversy over the Muslim plan to build a huge mosque, with a tall minaret to overshadow the crown jewel of Nazareth, the Basilica of the Annunciation, next to which it was supposed to stand. The State of Israel prevented the mosque from being built.
The inter-denominational Christian battles are no less rancorous. Although they do not reach the level of stalemate that you find in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, where a ladder has remained under the same window for 150 years, since anyone moving it would constitute changing or fixing something, which would constitute "ownership," and the other denominations would never permit that; still, I understand some tensions continue. "Why can't we all just remember that we believe in the same Jesus?" one of them asked me. Indeed. But the history of Christianity clearly illustrates the inability to do so.
The next day I drove up to Haifa, where I met my friend Keren. I had pored exhaustively over the google maps to ensure that there was no possibility of my getting lost - but it was to no avail. Lack of street signs again. However, truly the force of the unicorn was with me (in reality, I'm pretty sure that it was my deep and sincere morning prayer begging not to get lost in Haifa). I never found the street I was supposed to turn on to find the Bahai Gardens, but when I turned on a street that said it had a tourist information booth, I found myself looking directly at the very gardens I was looking for! After that, it was a matter of keeping that as my goal and driving around and up the hill until I found the entrance I was looking for.
Keren and I then drove up to Tzfat (Safed, near Lebanon) without too much difficulty. Our hotel was lovely - an old home renovated and made into a hotel. The city was a lot of fun - I loved the artist district, where I splurged and bought a small painting and several post cards of other paintings. And now, the unicorn has returned me safe and sound to the noise and chaos of Jerusalem. I do, however, think I have a cold. Not loving that.
Well, friends, until next time.
The view from the Ecce Homo at dusk. (Note how close it is to the minaret and the Dome of the Rock. Prayer calls kept me up half the night, as did the cannon every morning at 4 am to announce breakfast!)
The view from my hostel, the Ecce Homo (highly recommended!).
The view of the Via Dolorosa, looking down from the Ecce Homo Convent during Ramadan. Of course, my camera phone could not capture it, but I love the lighting!
I love this picture. It was at a Turkish restaurant in Jaffa where we stopped for lunch during the SIIS tour. They had made use of all the old Ottoman-style pots. It was awesome!
The view of Tel Aviv from Jaffa.
The rocket I saw get shot out of the air.
Some Jewish boys making use of a hot, dull Shabbat.
My friend showed me some ancient Roman glass in his shop. They take this and make it into unique jewelry.
The anointing oil I spoke of.
An old canon on the Golan Heights, from a war in the not-so-distant past.
Some kind of military shelter or backpacker hut - not sure which. There were several of these along the trial I briefly hiked.
The view of the Sea of Galilee from the Golan.
The fishies in the Jordan River. Really, it was crazy! And they do come and nibble on your toes! One of them, although I couldn't seem to capture it on camera, was a huge orange cat fish!
This is the Jordanian side of the river. I couldn't help but chuckle - a horse stable?
I saw dozens of people getting baptized. They have several little gated areas for groups to do baptisms. Clever. I understand that many of them have been baptized before, but want to do it where Jesus was baptized. I won't comment.
I always find it so interesting how Israel promotes itself. Little Israeli flags among the souvenirs.
Does anyone know why they have rocks in the sink? I have seen it in a couple of restrooms.
Friday, July 18, 2014
Some things considered...
It becomes exhausting, at times, to continue to talk about Israel through the lens of its interminable conflict with the Palestinians. I do make an effort to incorporate other aspects of this land that is so precious to me and billions of others around the world. But sometimes I find myself drawn to it. I don't think that is really a bad thing - I believe many of us are keenly interested in the fate of this land, and we feel a great empathy for the people tied to that fate. It is difficult to know what to make of the century-long conflict in relation to recent events. And frankly, I sometimes become nervous about stepping into the role of an expert. I feel as baffled as anyone else most of the time. More information does not necessarily equate a more solid opinion, although, it seems, less information does.
I believe it is enormously important to be willing to consider multiple perspectives, and I find I have little patience for those who are unwilling or unable to take a hard look at their own opinions and really hear voices that might contradict what they believe. The ability to do so is evidence of both personal and shared confidence, as well as emotional maturity, and while I can't claim to have arrived yet, I continue working toward that goal.
I do not have the time nor inclination to read exhaustively all the reporting on the conflict. I have a few sources that I consult and trust, and I do try really hard to hear multiple perspectives, both those from the media, as well as with people locally that I meet here. In talking with my mom during my nightly check-ins (yes, she still has me on a tight leash - especially under the current circumstances), I realize that reporting on the situation here simply does not fully cover the reality.
So, I'll dedicate another few minutes to an attempt to fill in some of the gaps. Be forewarned - I'm going to call it like I see it, which means everyone will probably be dissatisfied. No one is innocent, no one is the hero, and no one is completely the victim. The one exception I make to that is the children - those who have been killed and injured from IDF air attacks, and are otherwise terrified by a situation they can't even begin to understand; and those who must run for the bomb shelter several times a day when the alarm sounds of another attack from an enemy they don't know (and some have even been seriously injured by those rockets when they didn't make it to the shelter). In any case, my belief in human agency is such that I am rather slow to buy entirely into the separate victimhood narratives that both sides cling to like the very air they breathe, and try to portray to the world. (I believe I'm equally slow to buy into any victimhood narrative, really. Most often, I find, victimhood, after traumatic events have passed, is actually a choice, although we rarely realize that we make that choice.)
I realize as I write this that it sounds rather insensitive. I don't mean to be so. Being forever influenced by my own demons of the past, I do understand that one cannot simply shut off the pain and the memories. But whether we remain victims to that pain is our choice. We can choose the path of healing and peace. We can rebuild. We can choose growth over stagnation. And that is where my faith and hope lie.
I receive email action alerts from a group who tells me of Israel's terrible human rights violations in its campaign to take land from the Palestinians in Gaza. I am told by Jewish Israeli friends that Palestinians are simply full of blind hate and that all they want is to destroy the Jewish State. I hear voices from both sides complaining that the world either doesn't care or, worse, truly wants to hurt them. Both see themselves as the victims in a world callous to their cause. I am sympathetic, but also slightly annoyed by both perspectives. It causes good people to work, instead of on projects that mutually benefit one another, on frightening and intimidating the other, and often on avenging old wounds not allowed to heal.
It is a victimhood mentality that causes one to lash out, to need to get attention. As Israel's popularity continues to dwindle around the world, and public demonstrators shout "Death to the Jews!", my Jewish Israeli friends feel the ghosts of World War II rising, telling them that they must be strong, alone, because the "Final Solution" must never be permitted to happen again. And the world has already proved it will not stop it. They must stand alone against the world. Likewise, against an impossibly strong enemy, who has already taken the bulk of your historic land away, and with the consent of the international community, and who, although torn within itself, so far has shown an unwillingness to stop its citizens from building settlements on what might one day, God willing, be your only hope for a state on a mere 20% of your former land, Palestinians feel the hopelessness that leads them to fight back in any desperate way they can. Convinced that no one truly understands or appreciates their plight, each side fights as if for survival.
Yet it is more complicated still. Clearly the Israeli forces easily dominate in this confrontation. That is not the question. But does might make wrong? This is the question I want to look at right now. And I want to ask other questions along the way.
First, I think it's important to understand a few things. The leadership of the Palestinian people is completely broken. Hamas was elected in 2006, not because the majority of Palestinians believed in its anti-Israel rhetoric, but because it was the only other option to a Palestinian Authority "government" that the people could see was corrupt, serving only itself, and not the people. Hamas was originally a grassroots group and its leaders had done a much better job of helping the people - delivering humanitarian services and some semblance of organization that the PA just couldn't seem to muster. But the world looked on and condemned their free and fair election, pulling funding and support in order to delegitimize Hamas. It had the opposite effect, for a time. Palestinians were tired of the world telling them how to deal with their own governance, and they rallied around Hamas, even buying into some of the anti-Israel rhetoric.
As subsequent clashes ensued, and the Israeli military, always so much stronger and better protected, dominated, Palestinians felt powerless, fighting passionately but recklessly and trying to take any lives they could. Israel, after all, lost only dozens of people to their hundreds. Likewise, in the process, the Palestinian infrastructure, such as it was, was demolished. Starving, unemployed people were told by their leaders, in fiery rhetoric matching the angst they felt, that it was Israel's fault they couldn't feed and clothe their families.
Of course, no other voice countered that rhetoric. Gaza has no free press, nor does the West Bank. Anyone who dares to criticize the leadership is quickly silenced, either by threat or action. The need for total control and unity against Israel, the easy target for a common enemy (remember, nothing unifies people like a common enemy!), is too great.
I do know of one man, a West Bank Palestinian, who has been able to break the code of silence. Khaled Abu Toameh has largely been portrayed as a traitor by the Palestinian leadership, but he is honest and real about the lack of proper leadership and state-building in the West Bank and Gaza. I highly recommend you take a gander at his writings. I provide the link here.
http://www.gatestoneinstitute.org/author/Khaled+Abu+Toameh
Over the past few years, Hamas has been losing its credibility as well - both within the Palestinian community and among Arab elite. Part of the problem there is that the Muslim Brotherhood, its powerful ally, no longer holds power in Egypt. It feels even more isolated. I believe this is at the heart of the current round of rockets being launched into Israel. Hamas needs to regain some of its legitimacy as the front line against the Jewish enemy. Palestinians has found time and again that their best weapon is actually their own lives. Yes, I mean that the way it sounds. As Palestinian deaths mount, so does anger toward Israel, particularly within their own community, but also internationally. Israel becomes the big bully. So, Hamas orchestrates higher death tolls.
I recognize how sadistic this sounds - but I mean it. When the Israeli Air Force shoots into a home, school or hospital, it is not just trying to kill as many as possible. The opposite is true. They (almost) always call in advance and tell the residents that they are going to target that site (where rockets are either fabricated or launched), and that they must leave. Then they do a "tap" hit, where they send a rocket without the explosive, as a warning shot. They fire a few minutes later. I know of a few exceptions to this process, which is a counter-offensive that, I believe, is more careful to avoid human casualties than any other in the world. The exceptions are when they really want to kill a Hamas/terrorist leader. Then they seem to deem the casualties worth the risk. I find that morally iffy, but it must be considered in the context of my previous explanation of Israel's care to avoid casualties, and the possible saving of life.
What is rarely reported is that Hamas purposefully hides their rockets and rocket factories in homes, schools, hospitals. They know Israel will hit them, and the death toll will be high. This is a calculated sacrifice of its own people to raise international hatred of the Jewish State. Just yesterday a UN representative reported finding 20 rockets in an abandoned Gaza school. This is the reality on the ground. This kind of "leadership" is despicable. It also goes unreported, mostly because of the lack of outside reporting inside Gaza (most of what we get is from Hamas spokesmen, whose reasons for giving the information they do are abundantly clear), that on occasion, the rockets Gaza shoots at Israel actually fail to get out of Gaza. They hit their own people. That, of course, is never told to the reporters.
Another important question is whether Israel even needs to strike these targets. After all, their Iron Dome defense system has worked astonishingly well. Can't they just shoot them out of the sky until Hamas is tired of launching them? Is that what Israel should do?
Actually, perhaps they should. They (hopefully) would cease to be hammered in international opinion, and Hamas would take the (deserved) heat for the continued assault. But Israel doesn't so much care for international opinion - after all is said and done, people will hate Jews anyway. And the risk of losing even one Jewish life (which, unfortunately, has already happened - in addition to some Bedouin lives - more on that later) is simply too great. No, they will do what they must to end Hamas's military capability and end the assault.
This little video of Hillary Clinton talking to Jon Stewart on this topic is really right on. Now, I know many of my readers will be highly irritated just at the mention of Ms. Clinton, but, while I don't especially care for her politics in most things, she nailed it here. Feel free to check it out, if you aren't scared by the big D word.
http://www.tabletmag.com/scroll/179536/watch-hillary-clinton-vs-jon-stewart-on-gaza?utm_source=Facebook&utm_medium=Post&utm_content=Watch+Hillary+Clinton+vs.+Jon+Stewart+on+Gaza&utm_campaign=July2014#undefined
Now, back to my commentary. At this point, Israel looks like the victim. It is not entirely this way, I believe. As I said, they can back off and let international diplomacy work to scale down the conflict. They don't do this because they don't trust the international community. They have to look out for number one. Likewise, they don't shoot down every rocket - just the ones headed for "populated zones." The Bedouin areas do not count as "populated zones." That is rather reprehensible as well. If anyone is defenseless in this, it is the Bedouin, who live in third world destitution, with no rocket warning system. Several Bedouin have been hurt and a couple killed already. If Israel is going to protect its citizens, it needs to protect all of them equally.
The other deep criticism I have of Israel is the settlement project. The previous Israeli Supreme Court Justice Aharon Barak admitted, at my prodding, that these settlements are illegally - both in Israeli and international law. Yet they are allowed to be built, but, even more, are supported by Israeli legal infrastructures. They receive access to Israel's electric and water grid and participate in elections and other Israeli state services. Yet, when they physically attack (and they DO) Palestinians in the West Bank, usually by throwing stones, they are not punished, because the WB is out of Israel's state legal system. Whereas, WB Palestinians are subject to Israel's military justice system, being under international laws of occupation. Thus, if they retaliate at a settler, they are put in jail. Settlers act with general impunity. That is the reality. No real justice or fairness here.
There is so much more that I can and want to say, but this has already waxed long. So, I'll say this. I have posed a lot of questions. I think questions are often more important than answers - especially easy answers. The process of thinking things through and considering the complications is invaluable. That said, I do have a few things I wish would be taken into consideration. First, groups that try to help the Palestinians through attacking Israel in the media are chasing their tails and getting nowhere. And the same is true of those who simply lambast the Palestinians as terrorists. That doesn't help. What would help are efforts to stabilize life in Gaza and provide adequate education, employment and opportunities for them to improve their lives. Destitution and hopelessness breeds hate. Second, Americans need to understand that there are no quick solutions. When John Kerry sails in to negotiate a peace deal in a year, he is being terribly naive. This conflict was not created in a year; it cannot be solved so quickly. Decades of festering wounds, the lack of education and basic ability to operate in democratic structures are all impediments that take time to overcome. International investment should focus on these areas, with strings attached to the funding so that it doesn't just end up in the pockets of Palestinian elites who benefit from the prolonged conflict. Help people to help themselves. Give them another solution to hatred and violence. I believe they'll take it, if someone is willing to help them.
I believe it is enormously important to be willing to consider multiple perspectives, and I find I have little patience for those who are unwilling or unable to take a hard look at their own opinions and really hear voices that might contradict what they believe. The ability to do so is evidence of both personal and shared confidence, as well as emotional maturity, and while I can't claim to have arrived yet, I continue working toward that goal.
I do not have the time nor inclination to read exhaustively all the reporting on the conflict. I have a few sources that I consult and trust, and I do try really hard to hear multiple perspectives, both those from the media, as well as with people locally that I meet here. In talking with my mom during my nightly check-ins (yes, she still has me on a tight leash - especially under the current circumstances), I realize that reporting on the situation here simply does not fully cover the reality.
So, I'll dedicate another few minutes to an attempt to fill in some of the gaps. Be forewarned - I'm going to call it like I see it, which means everyone will probably be dissatisfied. No one is innocent, no one is the hero, and no one is completely the victim. The one exception I make to that is the children - those who have been killed and injured from IDF air attacks, and are otherwise terrified by a situation they can't even begin to understand; and those who must run for the bomb shelter several times a day when the alarm sounds of another attack from an enemy they don't know (and some have even been seriously injured by those rockets when they didn't make it to the shelter). In any case, my belief in human agency is such that I am rather slow to buy entirely into the separate victimhood narratives that both sides cling to like the very air they breathe, and try to portray to the world. (I believe I'm equally slow to buy into any victimhood narrative, really. Most often, I find, victimhood, after traumatic events have passed, is actually a choice, although we rarely realize that we make that choice.)
I realize as I write this that it sounds rather insensitive. I don't mean to be so. Being forever influenced by my own demons of the past, I do understand that one cannot simply shut off the pain and the memories. But whether we remain victims to that pain is our choice. We can choose the path of healing and peace. We can rebuild. We can choose growth over stagnation. And that is where my faith and hope lie.
I receive email action alerts from a group who tells me of Israel's terrible human rights violations in its campaign to take land from the Palestinians in Gaza. I am told by Jewish Israeli friends that Palestinians are simply full of blind hate and that all they want is to destroy the Jewish State. I hear voices from both sides complaining that the world either doesn't care or, worse, truly wants to hurt them. Both see themselves as the victims in a world callous to their cause. I am sympathetic, but also slightly annoyed by both perspectives. It causes good people to work, instead of on projects that mutually benefit one another, on frightening and intimidating the other, and often on avenging old wounds not allowed to heal.
It is a victimhood mentality that causes one to lash out, to need to get attention. As Israel's popularity continues to dwindle around the world, and public demonstrators shout "Death to the Jews!", my Jewish Israeli friends feel the ghosts of World War II rising, telling them that they must be strong, alone, because the "Final Solution" must never be permitted to happen again. And the world has already proved it will not stop it. They must stand alone against the world. Likewise, against an impossibly strong enemy, who has already taken the bulk of your historic land away, and with the consent of the international community, and who, although torn within itself, so far has shown an unwillingness to stop its citizens from building settlements on what might one day, God willing, be your only hope for a state on a mere 20% of your former land, Palestinians feel the hopelessness that leads them to fight back in any desperate way they can. Convinced that no one truly understands or appreciates their plight, each side fights as if for survival.
Yet it is more complicated still. Clearly the Israeli forces easily dominate in this confrontation. That is not the question. But does might make wrong? This is the question I want to look at right now. And I want to ask other questions along the way.
First, I think it's important to understand a few things. The leadership of the Palestinian people is completely broken. Hamas was elected in 2006, not because the majority of Palestinians believed in its anti-Israel rhetoric, but because it was the only other option to a Palestinian Authority "government" that the people could see was corrupt, serving only itself, and not the people. Hamas was originally a grassroots group and its leaders had done a much better job of helping the people - delivering humanitarian services and some semblance of organization that the PA just couldn't seem to muster. But the world looked on and condemned their free and fair election, pulling funding and support in order to delegitimize Hamas. It had the opposite effect, for a time. Palestinians were tired of the world telling them how to deal with their own governance, and they rallied around Hamas, even buying into some of the anti-Israel rhetoric.
As subsequent clashes ensued, and the Israeli military, always so much stronger and better protected, dominated, Palestinians felt powerless, fighting passionately but recklessly and trying to take any lives they could. Israel, after all, lost only dozens of people to their hundreds. Likewise, in the process, the Palestinian infrastructure, such as it was, was demolished. Starving, unemployed people were told by their leaders, in fiery rhetoric matching the angst they felt, that it was Israel's fault they couldn't feed and clothe their families.
Of course, no other voice countered that rhetoric. Gaza has no free press, nor does the West Bank. Anyone who dares to criticize the leadership is quickly silenced, either by threat or action. The need for total control and unity against Israel, the easy target for a common enemy (remember, nothing unifies people like a common enemy!), is too great.
I do know of one man, a West Bank Palestinian, who has been able to break the code of silence. Khaled Abu Toameh has largely been portrayed as a traitor by the Palestinian leadership, but he is honest and real about the lack of proper leadership and state-building in the West Bank and Gaza. I highly recommend you take a gander at his writings. I provide the link here.
http://www.gatestoneinstitute.org/author/Khaled+Abu+Toameh
Over the past few years, Hamas has been losing its credibility as well - both within the Palestinian community and among Arab elite. Part of the problem there is that the Muslim Brotherhood, its powerful ally, no longer holds power in Egypt. It feels even more isolated. I believe this is at the heart of the current round of rockets being launched into Israel. Hamas needs to regain some of its legitimacy as the front line against the Jewish enemy. Palestinians has found time and again that their best weapon is actually their own lives. Yes, I mean that the way it sounds. As Palestinian deaths mount, so does anger toward Israel, particularly within their own community, but also internationally. Israel becomes the big bully. So, Hamas orchestrates higher death tolls.
I recognize how sadistic this sounds - but I mean it. When the Israeli Air Force shoots into a home, school or hospital, it is not just trying to kill as many as possible. The opposite is true. They (almost) always call in advance and tell the residents that they are going to target that site (where rockets are either fabricated or launched), and that they must leave. Then they do a "tap" hit, where they send a rocket without the explosive, as a warning shot. They fire a few minutes later. I know of a few exceptions to this process, which is a counter-offensive that, I believe, is more careful to avoid human casualties than any other in the world. The exceptions are when they really want to kill a Hamas/terrorist leader. Then they seem to deem the casualties worth the risk. I find that morally iffy, but it must be considered in the context of my previous explanation of Israel's care to avoid casualties, and the possible saving of life.
What is rarely reported is that Hamas purposefully hides their rockets and rocket factories in homes, schools, hospitals. They know Israel will hit them, and the death toll will be high. This is a calculated sacrifice of its own people to raise international hatred of the Jewish State. Just yesterday a UN representative reported finding 20 rockets in an abandoned Gaza school. This is the reality on the ground. This kind of "leadership" is despicable. It also goes unreported, mostly because of the lack of outside reporting inside Gaza (most of what we get is from Hamas spokesmen, whose reasons for giving the information they do are abundantly clear), that on occasion, the rockets Gaza shoots at Israel actually fail to get out of Gaza. They hit their own people. That, of course, is never told to the reporters.
Another important question is whether Israel even needs to strike these targets. After all, their Iron Dome defense system has worked astonishingly well. Can't they just shoot them out of the sky until Hamas is tired of launching them? Is that what Israel should do?
Actually, perhaps they should. They (hopefully) would cease to be hammered in international opinion, and Hamas would take the (deserved) heat for the continued assault. But Israel doesn't so much care for international opinion - after all is said and done, people will hate Jews anyway. And the risk of losing even one Jewish life (which, unfortunately, has already happened - in addition to some Bedouin lives - more on that later) is simply too great. No, they will do what they must to end Hamas's military capability and end the assault.
This little video of Hillary Clinton talking to Jon Stewart on this topic is really right on. Now, I know many of my readers will be highly irritated just at the mention of Ms. Clinton, but, while I don't especially care for her politics in most things, she nailed it here. Feel free to check it out, if you aren't scared by the big D word.
http://www.tabletmag.com/scroll/179536/watch-hillary-clinton-vs-jon-stewart-on-gaza?utm_source=Facebook&utm_medium=Post&utm_content=Watch+Hillary+Clinton+vs.+Jon+Stewart+on+Gaza&utm_campaign=July2014#undefined
Now, back to my commentary. At this point, Israel looks like the victim. It is not entirely this way, I believe. As I said, they can back off and let international diplomacy work to scale down the conflict. They don't do this because they don't trust the international community. They have to look out for number one. Likewise, they don't shoot down every rocket - just the ones headed for "populated zones." The Bedouin areas do not count as "populated zones." That is rather reprehensible as well. If anyone is defenseless in this, it is the Bedouin, who live in third world destitution, with no rocket warning system. Several Bedouin have been hurt and a couple killed already. If Israel is going to protect its citizens, it needs to protect all of them equally.
The other deep criticism I have of Israel is the settlement project. The previous Israeli Supreme Court Justice Aharon Barak admitted, at my prodding, that these settlements are illegally - both in Israeli and international law. Yet they are allowed to be built, but, even more, are supported by Israeli legal infrastructures. They receive access to Israel's electric and water grid and participate in elections and other Israeli state services. Yet, when they physically attack (and they DO) Palestinians in the West Bank, usually by throwing stones, they are not punished, because the WB is out of Israel's state legal system. Whereas, WB Palestinians are subject to Israel's military justice system, being under international laws of occupation. Thus, if they retaliate at a settler, they are put in jail. Settlers act with general impunity. That is the reality. No real justice or fairness here.
There is so much more that I can and want to say, but this has already waxed long. So, I'll say this. I have posed a lot of questions. I think questions are often more important than answers - especially easy answers. The process of thinking things through and considering the complications is invaluable. That said, I do have a few things I wish would be taken into consideration. First, groups that try to help the Palestinians through attacking Israel in the media are chasing their tails and getting nowhere. And the same is true of those who simply lambast the Palestinians as terrorists. That doesn't help. What would help are efforts to stabilize life in Gaza and provide adequate education, employment and opportunities for them to improve their lives. Destitution and hopelessness breeds hate. Second, Americans need to understand that there are no quick solutions. When John Kerry sails in to negotiate a peace deal in a year, he is being terribly naive. This conflict was not created in a year; it cannot be solved so quickly. Decades of festering wounds, the lack of education and basic ability to operate in democratic structures are all impediments that take time to overcome. International investment should focus on these areas, with strings attached to the funding so that it doesn't just end up in the pockets of Palestinian elites who benefit from the prolonged conflict. Help people to help themselves. Give them another solution to hatred and violence. I believe they'll take it, if someone is willing to help them.
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Views of Israel
One of the things you realize when you really get in and begin to learn deeply about a place (or, I imagine, any topic), is that you can frame your learning by a myriad of reference points. For example, I have been learning about Christian holy sites and pilgrimage/tourism in Israel, and the meaning of those places in a modern, Jewish State. In a land boasting thousands of years of history, and of people traveling to it and through it expressly to participate in that history, this is a fascinating topic. Another frame, perhaps the one that garners the greatest attention (unfortunately) is the conflict over the land. We've covered that a bit - but should you have questions, by all means, ask! I love to answer questions. Other frames include landmarks and memorials - statues, monuments or plaques in Israel marking where, in its modern history, triumphant or meaningful battles, tragic bombings or other losses of life, and other such events took place. Likewise, many approach Israel from the Biblical and/or archaeological standpoint. Interestingly, my study of modern Christian pilgrimage wanders into that frame quite often, as many Christians love to see sites and excavations where the "stories of the Bible" took place, and that prove Jewish claim to the land. We'll save that one for another day. My friend Shay has studied extensively Israel's trail network. This phenomenon, with a heritage linked to its European scouting roots, has established itself firmly in Israel's most basic culture, both because it's a country obsessed with its Land and must, therefore, know its Land (the word in Hebrew also implying "knowing" it in the Biblical sense), and also because trails establish claims, and knowing those trails allow one to better fight the enemy in one's land. A great story here!
I could write about so many other aspects, such as environmental aspects - water is always a difficult issue in the part of world - plant life - figs, dates, cactus (which is called sabra in Arabic, and is also the adopted word for native-born Israelis, since the sabra grows natively here), cedars in the north, little bushes in the desert south that the bedouin use to make soap, and which can make camels rather sick if they eat too much, and on and on; languages - the official languages of Israel (most road signs are in these three) are Hebrew, Arabic and English - but since 1989 and the collapse of the Soviet Union, a large section of Israel's population speaks Russian. And on and on - so much one could consider!
But the frame I want to talk about today is of the culinary variety. My friend Peter likes to eat his way through a new place. I'm all for that! There are two things I need to make this a successful culinary adventure. One is inside information as to the best places for local food. So I ask around. Generally, that has been a good strategy, and good for practicing my Hebrew. My Arabic isn't good enough yet to even ask, but in Jerusalem, most speak English anyway. The other thing I need is some explanation - either a menu in English, or someone who can explain to me what the dishes are so I can decide if I want one in particular. So far, this has also worked out pretty well.
I wouldn't dream of boring you with a travelogue of my daily meals, but I'll lay out some of the basics for you. One thing you have to know is that Israelis eat a great many tomatoes and cucumbers - chopped up in salads mixed with parsley, lemon juice and salt (yum!), as well as just sliced up and enjoyed alone or on pita. Now pita is a thing that can only be experienced correctly here. It's not pita of the flat, tasteless variety. Done right, its soft and warm and delicious. Often pita is dipped in hummus - a paste of ground chick peas, garlic, lemon juice, and often, tahini (sesame seed paste). Also, done right, it is a treat for the mouth! Another Israeli/Palestinian favorite (one thing they are able to agree on is some shared food) is falafel. This is also made of more coarsely ground chick peas mixed with garlic, parsley and other spices, then rolled into small balls and fried. These will often be served in pitas with all kinds of vegetables, a little humus and tahini, but you can also get them on their own.
One thing that Arabs know how to do is meat. Oh, yes, my friends, some of the most tender and juicy meat. A favorite is slow-roasted lamb, but they do beef and chicken as well. One delicious way to experience Arab (adopted by Israelis) meat is in a swharma. Early in the day, they take chunks of meat and mash them together on a metal rod (a spit) that then rotates around an open oven as it cooks slowly all day. Then they take a sharp knife and cut it off slices to roll in a large flat bread, again with your choice of tahini and other sauces, and vegetables.
My description would not be complete without a comment on the fruit. Israel is a warm country in which the temperature rarely dips below freezing. As you can imagine, this makes for some great produce. Jaffa oranges were once world-famous (but now much compete with American oranges from California and Florida). It boasts many lemon orchards, as well as banana (did you know they grow upside down!? so odd looking!), mango, pomegranate, figs (recognized this tree by the leaves...), dates (which look like they grow on palm trees), as well as some ones more common to the west as well, such as peaches, nectarines, plums, etc. My problem with obtaining and enjoying all the fresh fruit I can fit into this stomach, is that in the market (which is an experience unto itself), you can a lot of the fruit you can only buy in 2-kilo plastic boxes. So annoying! I can't use all that! So, I have yet to try a fresh fig or lychee.
As with any culture, the spices are unique, rich and flavorful. But I do not know their names. If I could, I would just transport you into the market to see the bins of fresh spices, the little pyramids they create with the powders, and to experience the pungent (but not bad) aroma of the mix of spices. It is quite a sensory treat!
I will end with a brief word on perhaps Israel-Palestine's most famous and important produce export: olives. Olive trees and groves are truly ubiquitous, and they make some of the best olive oil you will find. (In fact, my Israeli friends in America are always complaining about the poor quality of olive oil they find there. What can I say?) They use that olive oil in everything - from mixing in the hummus, to drizzling over the hummus, and on bread before they put herbs and spices on it and fry it. Likewise, green, bitter olives, pit included, are everywhere, served with every meal. I don't love them as I do black olives (much more tame in flavor), but I do appreciate their flavor.
I'm missing a great many things, but I think I've reached the end of my time, and probably the end of your patience. If I can, in the near future, I'll post some pictures to accompany my little culinary review.
I could write about so many other aspects, such as environmental aspects - water is always a difficult issue in the part of world - plant life - figs, dates, cactus (which is called sabra in Arabic, and is also the adopted word for native-born Israelis, since the sabra grows natively here), cedars in the north, little bushes in the desert south that the bedouin use to make soap, and which can make camels rather sick if they eat too much, and on and on; languages - the official languages of Israel (most road signs are in these three) are Hebrew, Arabic and English - but since 1989 and the collapse of the Soviet Union, a large section of Israel's population speaks Russian. And on and on - so much one could consider!
But the frame I want to talk about today is of the culinary variety. My friend Peter likes to eat his way through a new place. I'm all for that! There are two things I need to make this a successful culinary adventure. One is inside information as to the best places for local food. So I ask around. Generally, that has been a good strategy, and good for practicing my Hebrew. My Arabic isn't good enough yet to even ask, but in Jerusalem, most speak English anyway. The other thing I need is some explanation - either a menu in English, or someone who can explain to me what the dishes are so I can decide if I want one in particular. So far, this has also worked out pretty well.
I wouldn't dream of boring you with a travelogue of my daily meals, but I'll lay out some of the basics for you. One thing you have to know is that Israelis eat a great many tomatoes and cucumbers - chopped up in salads mixed with parsley, lemon juice and salt (yum!), as well as just sliced up and enjoyed alone or on pita. Now pita is a thing that can only be experienced correctly here. It's not pita of the flat, tasteless variety. Done right, its soft and warm and delicious. Often pita is dipped in hummus - a paste of ground chick peas, garlic, lemon juice, and often, tahini (sesame seed paste). Also, done right, it is a treat for the mouth! Another Israeli/Palestinian favorite (one thing they are able to agree on is some shared food) is falafel. This is also made of more coarsely ground chick peas mixed with garlic, parsley and other spices, then rolled into small balls and fried. These will often be served in pitas with all kinds of vegetables, a little humus and tahini, but you can also get them on their own.
One thing that Arabs know how to do is meat. Oh, yes, my friends, some of the most tender and juicy meat. A favorite is slow-roasted lamb, but they do beef and chicken as well. One delicious way to experience Arab (adopted by Israelis) meat is in a swharma. Early in the day, they take chunks of meat and mash them together on a metal rod (a spit) that then rotates around an open oven as it cooks slowly all day. Then they take a sharp knife and cut it off slices to roll in a large flat bread, again with your choice of tahini and other sauces, and vegetables.
My description would not be complete without a comment on the fruit. Israel is a warm country in which the temperature rarely dips below freezing. As you can imagine, this makes for some great produce. Jaffa oranges were once world-famous (but now much compete with American oranges from California and Florida). It boasts many lemon orchards, as well as banana (did you know they grow upside down!? so odd looking!), mango, pomegranate, figs (recognized this tree by the leaves...), dates (which look like they grow on palm trees), as well as some ones more common to the west as well, such as peaches, nectarines, plums, etc. My problem with obtaining and enjoying all the fresh fruit I can fit into this stomach, is that in the market (which is an experience unto itself), you can a lot of the fruit you can only buy in 2-kilo plastic boxes. So annoying! I can't use all that! So, I have yet to try a fresh fig or lychee.
As with any culture, the spices are unique, rich and flavorful. But I do not know their names. If I could, I would just transport you into the market to see the bins of fresh spices, the little pyramids they create with the powders, and to experience the pungent (but not bad) aroma of the mix of spices. It is quite a sensory treat!
I will end with a brief word on perhaps Israel-Palestine's most famous and important produce export: olives. Olive trees and groves are truly ubiquitous, and they make some of the best olive oil you will find. (In fact, my Israeli friends in America are always complaining about the poor quality of olive oil they find there. What can I say?) They use that olive oil in everything - from mixing in the hummus, to drizzling over the hummus, and on bread before they put herbs and spices on it and fry it. Likewise, green, bitter olives, pit included, are everywhere, served with every meal. I don't love them as I do black olives (much more tame in flavor), but I do appreciate their flavor.
I'm missing a great many things, but I think I've reached the end of my time, and probably the end of your patience. If I can, in the near future, I'll post some pictures to accompany my little culinary review.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Hope will not be deterred
More rockets, more riots (fireworks going off all night long - and they're being fired at the Israeli police - with one huge boom that jarred me awake during the seemingly interminable 3:45 a.m. prayer call) and even gun fire between 8 and 10 this morning on the Temple Mount. No one killed, I understand. Thank goodness for that. Of course, the same is not true of the poor residents of Gaza. Upwards of 100 killed, some of them children. I again struggled to keep my emotions in check as I gazed on a NY Times picture of a father carrying his 5-year-old son, wrapped in a bloody sheet, to be buried. The heartbreak is overwhelming. And I'm not even in the midst of it.
My recent posts have been rather bleak.
I know. You're all very kind to slog through. I'm tired of bleak. Today I want to
return to some of the positive things going on. First, I just have to
say that I love finding good people everywhere I go, and I always do seem to find them. I know there are
crazies out there, and a few who just want to hurt or take advantage
of you. But by and large, I am always encouraged by how good and kind
people are. Sitting around the dinner table last night at the convent, I
met a few new friends, this time from Switzerland. We had a lovely
time talking about Israel, the tragedy of the situation and the
conflict that never really ends (OK, so that part wasn't SO lovely), and about our lives. Danny and his
family are visiting for a week from Switzerland. He is a high school
teacher with impeccable English and a kind smile. His parents,
although they speak very little English, smile attentively and
contribute enthusiastically to the conversation when they can.
(May I just interject momentarily to point out that I'm sitting in an internet cafe right on the Via Dolorosa. Every few minutes large groups of devout Christians amble by (and I do mean amble - it's really frustrating to get caught behind them!), sometimes singing indistinguishable songs of their faith, and those in front carrying a 2x4 cross along the way. One just went by, most of them apparently tone-deaf, and then finished off with a part of the Lord's Prayer in Spanish. I think these recitations and songs are a part of the communal experience of pilgrimage. I'm going to look into that.)
Back to exposing the positive. Most of the people I meet are so good
and kind, going about their lives, loving their families and friends
– and desperately hoping for peace. They are weary of the
senseless anger and violence. Even just sitting here in the lobby of
the convent, my Palestinian friend Nabil (not the same fiery friend
Anwar from last night) and I have been talking about the great
tragedy of the Conflict: the leadership (or lack thereof). Nabil
informs me that the Gazan people are being held hostage by their
Hamas leadership. Amen! (I pronounce my agreement fervently, wondering if that term makes any sense to an apparently secular Muslim.) Extremist leaders who hide behind innocent
civilians and let them take the Israeli missiles aimed at homes concealing rocket launchers and factories. Nabil, frustrated with the
complete lack of rationality and hope, tells me that the history of
mankind is one of war and bloodshed, of secret groups who perpetuate
such sadism for their own purposes. Hmmm...sound familiar? I think
he has nailed it on the head.
But the hope is that, in the midst of
all this, there is good. And good will prevail, in the end. So, I
want to share some of the good things I've seen lately. First, my
short visit to the West Bank consisted mainly of a visit to a
developing planned community called Rawabi. Look it up, it's
interesting. A wealthy Palestinian business man had a dream. Bypassing a government that refuses to take the initiative to actually build a
functioning Palestinian State (because elite Palestinian leaders profit from the state of indigency in which they, the "leaders," receive all kinds of funds from the US and UN to build state infrastructure that never seems to materialize), he decided to get his own funding and
build a modern, planned community. (I confess, generally I don't
really love planned communities; I prefer genuine, natural
growth. But here, with the blaring absence of growth and development, I
appreciate the optimism and initiative to change facts on the ground.)
It boasts a shopping center, several homes and apartments at various
price-ranges, an outdoor amphitheater as well as movie theater, and
more. It is not yet complete, but most of the homes and apartments
have sold in advance. The biggest problems have been with the
governments, both Israeli and Palestinian. No surprise there. Israel
has not cooperated with allowing for sufficient road-building for this
kind of project – until recently (the road is still too small for
the number of people expected to traverse it, but it is a good,
modern road. The problem is that different parts of the city are in Areas A, B and C. The road is in Area C. Confused yet? Me too!)
The other problem is water. The Israeli authorities
haven't prevented access – they just haven't helped to get it.
Neither has the Palestinian government. Bashar, the force behind the
project, described his deep frustration with the Palestinian
government that should, at the very least, lend encouragement, if not
financial support. The innovative project has received nothing. But the project is
exciting and hopeful, and I would love to see it succeed.
Another hopeful project taking place is
found in Jaffa. It's the Arab-Jewish Community Center, the only
outreach program led by Arab initiative. Ibrahim Abu Shindi is the
energetic, well-spoken and friendly head of the organization. He
spoke of the various programs the Center facilitates, from
after-school daycare (both Arabs and Jews) to sports, arts, music and
dance programs – all targeting young children and adolescents. The coordinators of the program know that the most successful initiatives for peace and tolerance work with children, before perceptions and attitudes are cemented. Of course, he admitted frustration that,
despite his obvious peaceful and loyal relations to Israel, every
time he travels, he is subjected to extra security and suspicion as
to his intentions, and not just by Israel. Sometimes by the very international organizations that have invited him to speak! That is exactly the point of the ongoing riots –
that kind of frustration engendered by unfounded discrimination. But wait –
we're being positive!
Well, listening to the news and hearing
about the barrage of missiles on Tel Aviv tonight, it is a real force
of will to seek out the positive, the hope. But it is can be found.
I'll end with final thought from my new
friend Nabil. Crazy is the island who attempts to clash with the
ocean. Israel and Hamas both would do well to keep that in mind. And another: Man cannot
live by air force alone. I like Nabil. He talks a lot and makes it difficult to write coherently, but he is definitely a kindred spirit.
Pictures to come.
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