Let the Children Come

Last week I had the privilege to stay in the village of Yanun in the North of the West Bank for a night.  I was helping cover for the Ecumenical Accompaniment team of the World Council of Churches while they were transitioning from one team to the next.  I have written about Yanun and EAPPI before here.

Instead of repeating myself, I would like to talk about the most significant part of this trip for me.  This was the first time I spent the night in Yanun, which meant I got to interact a lot more with the people than on the previous trip.  We visited the mayor, his mother and sisters, had dinner, and drank lots and lots of tea and coffee.  I was surprised that my level of Arabic allowed me to understand most of what people said, since most do not speak English very well.  The best part, however, was meeting the children.

In the evening, the girls came over and asked for coloring books.  The smiles lit up on their faces when we brought them out to use.  At night, all the children of the village came over and asked us to play games.  We probably spent two hours playing various outdoor games from tag to water balloons to soccer to dodgeball.

On the one hand, it was sad that we had to play in the small street area in front of our house, which is only about 15 feet wide, when the village is surrounded by rolling hills and open countryside.  This land, however, has been confiscated by the nearby settlement of Itamar and is constantly watched by a guards, making it unsafe for the children to play in.

Despite this heartbreaking situation, the smiles on the faces of these children was priceless.  I was amazed at how little it took to entertain them.  Coloring books, a few balls, and somebody willing to play with them brought them so much happiness.  In the US, most kids have so many toys, that they would bore of these things quickly.

During the most intense days of the UN statehood bid, I spent my time in a village where none of the difficulties in life will be affected by this political move.  In the face of such obstacles and hopelessness, I realized that it is true that if you have made a child smile, you have done something worthwhile.

It's September

I feel like I should say something regarding the upcoming proposal by the Palestinian Authority to the UN. There are so many opinions and views, about whether or not this move is good for the Palestinians. I, however, do not have much to say. I do not know what will happen as an outcome, except that even if it is successful, little will change on the ground for Palestinians. In getting caught up in these BIG political issues, the everyday hardships of Palestinians are overlooked. It is these trials, that make this conflict the most difficult. It is hard for me to be hopeful, when every time I travel to Bethlehem, I see new construction occurring on the separation wall. It is difficult for me to be hopeful when I hear stories of al-Walaja, a village near Bethlehem, where dozens of olive trees were recently uprooted to make room for construction of a new portion of the separation wall. Instead, I will focus on another aspect of September: the coming of autumn.

Mosaics in Jericho.

Recently I was reading through poems by Mahmoud Darwish, who is often referred to as the national poet of Palestine. In this poem, Darwish points at the humanity of Palestinians, as much as any other human being.


We Have the Right to Love Autumn
And we, too, have the right to love the last days of autumn and ask:
Is there room in the field for a new autumn, so we may lie down like coals?
An autumn that blights its leaves with gold.
If only we were leaves on a fig tree, or even neglected meadow plants
that we may observe the seasons change!
If only we never said goodbye to the fundamentals
and questioned our fathers when they fled at knife point. May poetry and
    God's name have mercy on us!
We have the right to warm the nights of beautiful women, and talk about
what might shorten the night of two strangers waiting for the North to reach
    the compass.
It's autumn. We have the right to smell autumn's fragrances and ask the night
    for a dream.
Does the dream, like the dreamers themselves, sicken? Autumn. Autumn.
Can a people be born on a guillotine?
We have the right to die any way we wish.
May the earth hid itself away in an ear of wheat!
~Fewer Roses, 1986

 Darwish is know for his blunt approach to poetry during his early years. He was very straightforward about the injustices against Palestinians. Today, negotiations have come to a halt in the past year, largely due to the fact that Israel refuses to halt settlement construction before negotiating. If Israel does not stop settlement construction, it allows them to create facts on the ground preventing a two state solution, all the while with the pretext of negotiations. The Palestinian leadership has decided to take another route, due to their lack for a partner for peace. They have decided to boldly say we are human too and deserve justice and a state of our own.

For more information on al-Walaja: Israeli court rejects al-Walaja's appeal against the wall

Ten Years Ago

I will never forget that day 10 years ago, sitting in 10th grade American History class and the phone rang. Our teacher was told to turn on the TV. What we saw was the wreckage on the first of the World Trade Center Towers after a plane ran into it. We soon saw the second plane hit. The next class was spent watching the TV as well, where we watched both towers fall, something I don't think anybody was expecting. It was a surreal day, and even more surreal from a small Minnesota town feeling so far away from the tragedy.

I must admit, that often now when I think about September 11, I recall the fear and racism that has grown toward Islam and Muslims since this day, and the brutal wars that have been carried out using this day as a justification. Frustration that this is what has emerged since 9/11, often make me forget the sheer tragedy of the events and the lives that were lost and changed.

Watching yesterday on TV a special recalling the events of that day, I was reminded by the tragedy of 9/11. It was something that nobody expected would happen. So many people were killed for no reason. I was struck by the sadness of it all. 10 years later, I hope that the US and the world, remembers what happened and learns from the tragedy. As respect for all those who lost their lives, I pray we learn how to plant the seeds of peace and understanding, instead of fear and hatred.

If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse

Last year when I arrived back from the US to Jerusalem, I was trying to stay in the middle in my perspective on the conflict. Being to pro-Israeli or pro-Palestinian frustrated me. I also, had very idealistic views that if both sides simply talked to each other and learned about each other, the conflict would be solved. While I still feel like being pro-Israeli or pro-Palestinian, or as a friend of mine says, "More Palestinian than a Palestinian," and one could also say, "More Israeli than an Israel," my idea of having a balanced perspective on the conflict has become more nuanced.

One of the perks of studying in Jerusalem, is not only being able to study about Israel/Palestine, but also being able to experience it. I imagine that if I was studying Islamic and Middle Eastern Studies in the US, I would read a lot of books, but I would not have the chance to learn from the people first hand. I took advantage of this ability my first semester. I decided to write a paper based on interviews with Palestinians.

My initial interest was knowing what both sides knew about each other's perspective. Since, however, I know mostly Palestinians and could find interviewees within this community better, I focused my interviews on asking Palestinians what they knew about Jewish history? I interviewed all middle-aged males, but from varying religious backgrounds and perspectives on the conflict. I initially expected people to agree with my view that if both Israelis and Palestinians learned about each other's backgrounds and interacted with each other, then the conflict would be easier to solve.

I soon came into contact with the term 'normalization'. Normalization is a term that came to be used of many educational programs, retreats, and conferences that brought Palestinians and Israelis together to talk about their perspectives. Instead of solving the conflict, however, many of these programs simply made people feel good about themselves, and become 'normalized' to the conflict, without having to really change how they acted to bring about a true solution.

One of the men I interviewed, a Catholic priest and theology professor at Bethlehem University, who has attended many conferences with Jewish and Muslim leaders, as well as bringing his students to interfaith dialogue sessions emphasized the need for a 'just' peace. He explained that because of the Israeli occupation, anytime Palestinians and Israelis meet, there is a sense of inequality; there is an oppressor and an oppressed. The only way to truly meet and understand each other, would be to meet as equals. As long as there is occupation, there will always be inequality in this meetings. He explained: "The idea is if you want me to know about your history you need to know about mine. If you want me to know about your suffering, I suffer as well and I want you to acknowledge that I suffer."

I no longer strive to stay in the middle and simply listen to both sides neutrally. The fact is that there is a situation of injustice here, where Palestinians every day lives are controlled by the Israeli occupation. Until there is a politically solution, there will never be equality in which both sides have human dignity. As Desmond Tutu said: "If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality."

Photo c/o blogs.elca.org.
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