Uncategorized

May 22, 2013November 27, 2013

Final Thoughts on My Week in Palestine

During my week in Palestine, I was in the care of three great guides: Husam Jubran (hjubranus@yahoo.com), Kamal Mukarker (kamal_mukarker@hotmail.com), and Iyad Shrydeh (iyadsh_2004@yahoo.com). Each is a proud Palestinian who works routinely with American tourists. They are all licensed guides (charging $300 a day, possibly with a car) who work like any guide in Europe. The big difference is that most of their clients are religious or political tourists. Frankly, I can’t imagine enjoying a trip here without the help of professional guides like these. With Kamal, Iyad, and Husam, I felt safe and got the absolute most learning out of each day.

With a guide in Palestine, you’re likely to find yourself invited into a family’s home for dinner. I had a great evening with Kamal (seated next to his mother). His mother is also a guide.

Traveling through the Holy Land, my heart is a shuttlecock, swinging from sympathy with Israel to solidarity with Palestine. I’m saddened by the people — like some who post on this blog and on Facebook — who are so hardened on one side or the other that they cannot allow themselves to find empathy with the society they consider the enemy. Even if one side is the enemy, it’s not the entire society but just its powerful or just its extremists. And the young generation on each side is simply living with the history it inherited. As is so often the case in tough situations like this, most people would be willing to find a way to coexist peacefully but extremists can only get traction by blasting out the middle and making things more radical.

Travelers entering Israel get a visa — but it’s a separate sheet of paper clipped into your passport so that after your trip there’s no evidence that you’ve been in Israel (which is nice if you’re visiting some extreme Islamic countries). Palestine uses the same coins and currency as Israel and, strictly from a passport point of view, is like being in the same country. While crossing the border is complicated for Palestinians, for a Western tourist it's easy. Phones and ATMs work in Palestine as if you’re in Israel. There is plenty of good guidebook information for independent travelers in Palestine — either as part of Israel guidebooks or as books solely on Palestine. (Please note that I did not go to Gaza which is a much less tourist-friendly situation.) — Travelers entering Israel get a visa — but it’s a separate sheet of paper clipped into your passport so that after your trip there’s no evidence that you’ve been in Israel (which is nice if you’re visiting some extreme Islamic countries). Palestine uses the same coins and currency as Israel and, strictly from a passport point of view, is like being in the same country. While crossing the border is complicated for Palestinians, for a Western tourist it’s easy. Phones and ATMs work in Palestine as if you’re in Israel. There is plenty of good guidebook information for independent travelers in Palestine — either as part of Israel guidebooks or as books solely on Palestine. (Please note that I did not go to Gaza which is a much less tourist-friendly situation.)

When I consider the challenges facing the Holy Land, I think of the importance of Israelis and Palestinians having ways to connect. I’m haunted by the devastation the people of France and Germany suffered in World War I, and I’m equally haunted by the fact that few Germans and French on the front lines had ever met someone from the other country in 1914. I believe if they had met, studied, drank, and danced together, they would have found a way to avoid the slaughter.

Whichever side of the separation wall your heart resides on, you should be concerned that — as a result of the wall — people on both sides will not get to know each other. They will not understand that they all root for the same soccer teams. Israelis and Palestinians who are soccer fans, curiously, root for the Madrid and Barcelona teams — but they don’t even know the other side does the same thing. There’s no way mutual fans of Real Madrid could be mutual enemies.

In addition to Palestinian flags, this vendor is selling flags for FC Barcelona and Real Madrid — soccer teams that are extremely popular in Israel. I've also heard Muslim Palestinians and Israeli Jews refer to each other as cousins. While these days that might be a bit optimistic, both clans have the great patriarch Abraham in common. — In addition to Palestinian flags, this vendor is selling flags for FC Barcelona and Real Madrid — soccer teams that are extremely popular in Israel. I’ve also heard Muslim Palestinians and Israeli Jews refer to each other as cousins. While these days that might be a bit optimistic, both clans have the great patriarch Abraham in common.

There’s a place on the Palestine side of the wall where passengers can conveniently change from a Palestinian car to an Israeli one. When I left Palestine, my Israeli driver waited there for my Palestinian driver to drop me off. I’ll never forget their handshake — in the shadow of an ominous Israeli watchtower painted black by the flames of burning tires and with angry Palestinian art on the wall. These men were each beautiful, caring people, caught in a problem much bigger than either of them. The exchange was little more than a suitcase shuttling from one back seat to the other. I watched as they quietly shook hands, looked into each other’s eyes, and said a solemn and heartfelt “Shalom.” After my week in Palestine, driving 300 yards through that security gate into Israel was like driving from Guatemala to San Diego. And I thought, “With all these good people, on both sides, there has got to be a solution — and a big part of it will be grassroots, people-to-people connections.”

As always, by traveling to a country that seems hard to get your brain around, you realize it’s filled with people just like you and me (but who really know how to wear a scarf). Consider a trip to the Holy Land. And when you do, visit both Israel and Palestine. Do it for peace.

May 21, 2013January 8, 2018

Old Germans, a New Wall, and Tears

I was having dinner in Bethlehem with a Greek Orthodox Palestinian family and two older German women who were retired Lutheran pastors. The Muslim call to prayer interrupted our conversation. We went out on the third-floor balcony to hear the confused cacophony of sounds coming from minarets on all sides.

Bethlehem’s skyline is decorated by silent steeples and singing minarets. The minarets crank up the volume and play five times a day.

My Greek Orthodox friends said the volume for the call to prayer in Bethlehem is particularly loud — it’s a kind of resistance to annoy the Israelis. They said about the man who sings the call to prayer: “It feels like this man lives with us. Five times a day he wails. Even God wants to sleep, but there’s nowhere to hide. In the summer, we must keep the door open, and it’s like he’s right here in our house. Early in the morning, the man who sings the call to prayer changes the words and adds, ‘It’s better to pray than to sleep.’ But we think God can wait for us. We Christians wake God only on Sunday.”

When the call to prayer finished, we continued our conversation about living on the wrong side of a “separation wall.” The German women reminisced about 1989 and the fall of “their” wall. One pastor recalled watching West German Chancellor Helmut Kohl cry for joy and thought, “Oh, how silly.” Then, when what had just happened sank in, she found herself crying too…she said that she fell to the carpet and cried all night for joy. These women come to Palestine every year and — 24 years later — the “wall tears” they now shed are of sadness.

May 21, 2013November 27, 2013

Idea Butterflies: Random Thoughts from My Notes

When I travel I collect ideas like butterflies as they flutter by. I jot them down, never knowing if they will find a place in something yet to be composed. Here are some random, thought-provoking “idea butterflies” I caught but didn’t know what to do with. I’m not saying they are right, so all you hair-trigger partisans should hold your fire for this one. These are just some ideas I found interesting and wanted to share:

I was told that 400 years of Ottoman control — followed by European colonialism — destroyed the social fabric of the Middle East. In other words, much of the frustration we have with the lack of progress in the Middle East is due to centuries of occupation, colonization, corruption, and dictatorship brought on by the Ottomans and the West.

When I consider the many extreme political ideologies that I believe undermine peace — from fringe groups in the USA to fundamentalist organizations that inherit power for lack of any good competition in places like Egypt and Iran — I find that many have a foundation in religious passion. When you travel, you understand how fundamentalism (whether your religion’s or someone else’s) can lead to fear and violence.

I was once told that a “massacre” is when at least five people are killed by force without fighting back or without an opportunity to fight back. It occurred to me that this is arbitrary…but then I wondered, what makes a “massacre?”

Someone explained the rise of Islamists throughout the region this way: Autocrats and dictators have long kept the left-wing opposition in their countries weak by giving conservative religious groups room to grow and organize politically. Suddenly, with the Arab Spring, the dictators are gone, but there’s nothing organized on the left. So the right-wing religious groups (as we see in Iraq, Egypt, Syria, and Gaza) grab power over the less-organized, secular left. Also, in many troubled places like these, locals wanting freedom have a choice: the USA-supported faction or the religious right. The effect is just the opposite of what the neocons who brought us the Iraq War predicted: a “domino effect” yes…but of right-wing fundamentalist Muslim “democracies” almost inheriting power by default.

Islamists — from Cairo to Kabul — are smart. They build outside of politics. Over time, they infiltrate society by providing people what governments should (e.g. decent schools and a social safety net). Today, there are more veils on the street than ever. Even girls from modern secular families feel the pressure at school, and many come home requesting that their parents get them scarves. They just want to fit in.

A person in a poor and ramshackle city told me, “I remember my first time in USA. I saw old people bagging groceries. We have only a little money, but our old people will never be treated that way.”

You meet far fewer tourists in the West Bank than elsewhere, but those you do meet are really interesting.

May 20, 2013November 27, 2013

Life in the Desert, Life in the Dead Sea

A big part of Palestine is desert, and much of it is below sea level. Nearly any tourist here will stop at the Wadi Qilt viewpoint for a look at the vast and awe-inspiring Judean Desert. Nomad communities fill dusty gullies with their ramshackle huts and tents. Children and sheep dogs follow their flocks of goats and sheep as the herds search for something to munch on. Modern water pumps are caged in and surrounded by barbed wire—a reminder of what is the most important natural resource around here. And desolate monasteries cling to remote cliffs as they have for 1,500 years. From this viewpoint, you drive down to the ancient city of Jericho and, continuing on as your ears pop, you come to the bottom of it all: the Dead Sea.

The Monastery of St. George, built on cliffs above a natural spring, dates to the 6th century. For 1,500 years, its monks have lived lives of isolation and meditation inspired by Jesus.

The Monastery of St. George is Greek Orthodox. Lots of pilgrims, especially from Ethiopia and Greece, hike here, light candles, and gaze at its icons for inspiration.

Palestinian Christians come to the Monastery of St. George too. While less than 2 percent of Palestine is now Christian, those who are come from families that have lived here as Christians since the 1st century.

The Dead Sea is the lowest place on earth — about 1,400 feet below sea level. There is no ocean beach, lake, or riverbank in the West Bank where a Palestinian family can easily take their children. While Palestinians like to think part of the Dead Sea is in their territory, in reality, Israel (along with Jordan) controls its entire shoreline. When times are relaxed, Israeli guards give Palestinians access. Packed with bromine, magnesium, and iodine, it's one of the saltiest bodies of water in the world (about 33 percent). Tourists are more than welcome here, and they enjoy bobbing like corks in the super-salty water. They also like rubbing its magically curative, black mud on their bodies. My guide took home a bag for his fiancé, as women believe the mud's minerals make their skin younger and more beautiful. — The Dead Sea is the lowest place on earth — about 1,400 feet below sea level. There is no ocean beach, lake, or riverbank in the West Bank where a Palestinian family can easily take their children. While Palestinians like to think part of the Dead Sea is in their territory, in reality, Israel (along with Jordan) controls its entire shoreline. When times are relaxed, Israeli guards give Palestinians access. Packed with bromine, magnesium, and iodine, it’s one of the saltiest bodies of water in the world (about 33 percent). Tourists are more than welcome here, and they enjoy bobbing like corks in the super-salty water. They also like rubbing its magically curative, black mud on their bodies. My guide took home a bag for his fiancé, as women believe the mud’s minerals make their skin younger and more beautiful.

May 20, 2013December 7, 2016

Ramallah and the Tomb of Mahmoud Darwish

Growing up, the only Palestinian I was aware of was Yasser Arafat. But a thoughtful museum at the tomb of the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish introduced me to the author and poet who wrote the Palestinian Declaration of Independence. Darwish, who died in 2008, worked with Arafat but used a pen rather than a gun as his weapon.

If you can’t see the video below, watch it on YouTube.