Before you go any further, I have to warn you! This post is simply a total summary of my time spent in Palestine and Israel. You will find no life changing discoveries, well-expressed lessons, or thoroughly thought out thinkings...only a summary of what I did and what I saw, mostly for the sake of having it all written down. I promise my upcoming posts will be much more pertinent to where I actually am, but I just can't begin these blogs until first covering my time spent in the Middle East. With this knowledge, you are now welcome—if you so choose—to read on and enjoy :)
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On January 7th, 14 kooky and overly excited kids (ages 18-20 still count as kids right?) began to trickle into the Newark airport. We hadn’t all been together since August, so you can bet that our 2 months spent suddenly inseparably together led to some interesting dynamics! Anyways, on January 8th we took off for Israel after extensive airport security questioning and overpriced airport snacks purchasing. We landed in the port city of Tel Aviv and drove to our hostel in Jaffa, the oldest and southern-most part of Tel Aviv. Old Jaffa Hostel was home to multiple incredible dogs and a beautiful rooftop area, both of which I thoroughly enjoyed. On the short walk from our hostel to the nearby shores of the Mediterranean Sea, we would pass trendy high end boutiques, eccentric flea shops selling things you may find in any given drawer of a hoarder’s house, and one particular shop which appeared to just be a pile of over 500 plastic chairs (they've really cornered that market). The area was diverse and a bit bewildering—the perfect taste of weeks to come.
January 11/12: We took off to our home for the next few weeks—Beit Sahour! Just east of Bethlehem, Beit Sahour provides a less touristy, more authentic experience than staying in the heart of Bethlehem. Our itinerary for the next few weeks was planned by Holy Land Trust, an organization that seeks to educate and empower local and global communities with hopes of achieving peace in the Holy Land. They arranged a very busy and very wonderful three weeks for us. We lived at the Al Beit Guest House, which was run by the kindest woman, Amal; she cooked us more delicious food than we could ever consume and politely laughed at all of our American weirdness. The first few days here consisted of:
A visit to the Church of the Nativity (Jesus’ birthplace) and the nearby shepherd’s field
Our first authentic falafel—a deep-fried, hush-puppy-like ball made from ground chickpeas
A geo political tour of Bethlehem where we had our first up-close look at the massive wall dividing Israeli and Palestinian land
Our group’s first attempts at bargaining (turns out, we were awful)
Bingo—at a club
A powerful tour of Yad Vashem, World Holocaust Remembrance Center
A tour of the ancient City of Lifta, home to some of the coolest cacti ever!
An Orthodox New Year’s party (at the same club where we played Bingo)
A visit to the Western Wall during Shabbat to sing, dance, yell, worship, and celebrate alongside hundreds of people!
Already, I’m sure you can see just how varied our activities here could be! We quickly learned that Middle East has mastered the ability to live among such polar circumstances.
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January 14th was our first day of service, which was spent with an organization called Tent of Nations. The Tent of Nations (Nassar Farm) is a beautiful farm located in the West Bank of Palestine. Accessible only through a short walk on a dirt road surrounded by Olive trees, a rickety gate stood open where, upon entering, farm dogs rushed to greet us. Murals and mosaics created by local children and visiting groups from around the world left no wall or patch of cement without a beautiful splash of color. We spent the day planting olive trees, trekking up and down a steep slope and pounding the tough earth with pick-axes and shovels. The work was grueling, but we could tell they were glad to have us there, even if our farming abilities weren’t exactly up to par. After a morning spent in the fields, we sat down to share tea and hear from one of the owners of the farm, Dahoud Nassar. He was by far one of the most inspirational speakers I’ve heard; sincerity and genuine hope flowed from every syllable of his teachings. He spoke about the pain he and his fellow Palestinians had faced caused by the Israeli government such as water restrictions, land seizures, and one recent incident where the Israeli government bulldozed 1,500 of the farm’s trees just weeks before harvest. Through it all, he refused to be the victim, prompting the farms motto: We Refuse to be Enemies. He taught us to “act instead of react,” which could clearly be seen through the incredible work that takes place on his farm through volunteer workcamps, children’s summer camps, and programs fighting for female empowerment. “Come and see. Go and tell” was his simple advice for us when we inquired how we could go about helping. I was astounded by this organization and its many facets; it filled so many unique needs in a community simply by finding what was necessary and being the ones to help. Above all, Dahoud was fueled by an acknowledgement of the humanity of all people, from his Palestinian neighbors, to us visiting Americans, and even his Israeli government oppressors. This organization left an impact on our group far greater than the one left by our 80 or so planted trees, but I’m glad we were able to play our small part. If you’d like to know more about Tent of Nations, please visit their website, www.tentofnations.org to learn more.
That night, we were able to watch an incredible documentary, Disturbing the Peace, and even speak with the director and some of the participants. The film tells the true story of former enemy combatants, from both Israel and Palestine, and their journey to becoming nonviolent protestors, standing together to encourage peace and better lives for both sides. I think if every person in this world could watch this documentary, perhaps the violence could come to a much quicker end.
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The next few days, we took geopolitical tours of Jerusalem, where we stood atop the Mount of Olives, visited the beautiful Dome of the Rock, and saw certain areas where Palestinian houses had been completely demolished by the Israeli government. It’s difficult to process just how to feel when seeing such intense beauty juxtaposed by such blatant inhumanity.
We were also able to work at the Arab Women’s Union, an organization that began 60 years ago with women making and selling dresses and has now expanded to a nursery, aquagarden, production area for women to cut and package parsley for local markets, and a special needs center where the participants weave mats and make recycled paper, taking steps towards self sufficiency. This organization, like Tent of Nations, seemed to fill so many diverse community needs incredibly homogeneously.
January 18 brought a day of pruning and planting at a local church before visiting a mosque in Bethlehem to meet with a sheikh (Islamic leader). We were able to ask him questions about Islam and discuss how inaccurately our western media often portrays the peaceful religion. After only a week and half, we were all beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed by the abundance of information we’d already been handed. That night, we squeezed into one way-too-hot, suitcase-filled room and had a much needed silent dance party. This felt like a gap year. This felt like an adventure.
The next morning, we took off to Ramallah to hear from a Jean Zaru, a Palestinian leader and a pioneer for women’s rights. Despite being an incredibly strong and influential woman, even she falls prey at times to the social standards of trying to be an “ideal” woman and mother and facing the pain that follows. She’s written a book called Occupied with Nonviolence if you’re interested in hearing her point of view. Next, we met with a group of students involved in the Right To Education Campaign. We joined them for a tour of their school, Birzeit University, followed by a delicious lunch, reinforcing my belief that pizza and ice cream may just be a force strong enough to bridge any division.
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In the next 3 days we:
Went back to volunteer at Tent of Nations (they had puppies this time!!)
Visited the Diyar Dance Theatre, where our new friend Marwan and some local teens taught us the traditional Palestinian dance—the Dabka. With the foundation belief that “art is resistance,” students there write and choreograph their own shows focusing on bringing Palestinian struggles to light. These students, mostly my age or younger, found a home and an outlet for expression through Diyar, and I’m glad I had the opportunity to partake in that magic for an evening
Watched President Trump’s inauguration— everyone in our hostel crowded around one struggling-to-stream laptop. Emotions were mixed. Emotions remain mixed.
Heard from speakers George Rishmawi—who taught us about the First Intifada, an important event in the Palestinian and Israeli conflict—and Sami Awad—who shared his perspective about nonviolent protests and their ability to shift the power from oppressor to people.
Held a very small women’s march in solidarity with the incredible marches happening all around the world
Visited Hebron, where Palestinians live with fences above their heads, garbage regularly thrown down onto them by the Israeli military residing above. The disparity in Hebron was more apparent than any city we’d previously visited. We met with one organization whose core purpose is to help Palestinian children get through harsh checkpoints just to get to school. Can you imagine needing an organization like that? As we crossed over to the Israeli side of Hebron to meet with David Wilder, an Israeli activist, the terrain changed from dirt to grass and the atmosphere from chaotic to serene. How simply we, as Americans, crossed into the kind of better life those we’d just befriended had been dreaming of for years, but will never be allowed to have.
Met with Roots, an incredible organization working to unite Palestinians and Israelis by shifting hated and suspicion towards trust, empathy, and mutual support. At this point, we had met mainly with Palestinians, so it was nice to hear from an Israeli so keen on uniting the opposing sides.
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January 23rd was one of my favorite days. We walked through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, Wadi Quelt, from Jerusalem to Jericho—setting for the Parable of the Good Samaritan. We were reminded to think of those we most oppose, most detest, and most misunderstand…and to love them fully, as they are our neighbor, they are human, and they are worthy. Next, we visited the Dead Sea, where we spent the afternoon floating away, carefree and covered in mud at the lowest place on Earth. After a dreamy day, we returned to our hostel, scrubbing mud away and throwing our belongings into backpacks, as our Palestinian host-stays began that night!
My host mom, Sima, picked Margaret Anne (another gap year gal) and me up, and we took off to her beautiful home. Her youngest, Nicolas, maintained a safe distance until I inquired about the family’s pets. He immediately began to grin, grabbing Margaret Anne and I and introducing us to his parakeet, cat, 4 dogs, and 3 (I think) rabbits. I wasn’t able to talk much with the eldest daughter, Berta, but she could be seen darting around the house, running to spin class, English lessons, or her various work commitments. Sima’s husband, Mounir, spent much of his week working in Ramallah, where their younger daughter, Nadia, attended university, but we were able to enjoy time with them both on the weekend. My 4 days with the Ghawaly’s were wonderful, and I’ll never forget our time spent savoring breakfast feasts, admiring wedding albums, watching silly Facebook videos, touring around Bethlehem, discussing Grey’s Anatomy, laughing endlessly, and really feeling like a part of this wonderful family in such a short time. Their hospitality was unremitting, and they made my time in Palestine all the more amazing.
Throughout my time living with the Ghawalys, we also:
Volunteered at L’Arche—an organization where adults with special needs make wool ornaments, nativities, and jewelry to sell
Visited the Bethlehem Icons Centre, learning a bit about the ancient art of iconography and its influence today
Met with Xavier Abu Eid at Brigham Young University, who guided us through the basics of Judaism and its ever changing developments
Friday evening, Xavier and his family were kind enough to welcome us to a traditional Shabbat dinner after we attended a Jewish service. They taught us the origins behind Jewish customs, and answered our many questions regarding Zionism, their religion, and their stance on the conflict with Palestine. We learned that one of their sons was the only orthodox Jew in a school with over 600 other students. Despite the difficulty and repercussions that at times come with this decision—including a fire set to the school alongside graffiti claiming “there is no coexistence with cancer”—they believed this struggle is worth it in order to unite their people groups and not be separated by religion nor background. They were a kind and loving family—a beautiful representation of the genuinely good people that exist on either side of this battle.
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The final days of January, and our final days in Israel and Palestine, began with us hopping on a bus and making our way to Galilee, making stops at Mount Carmel, the Church of Annunciation, and Capernaum along the way. This was the day Trump first attempted his 'Muslim travel ban,' which, combined with all of our exhaustion, left most of us in very weird and detached moods. We had all seen and heard the despair a wall can bring, and we'd lived among our Muslim brothers and sisters for weeks. At that moment, I think we were all just wishing that Donald Trump could come and see what we had.
The next day, we found a bit of peace with a boat ride across the Sea of Galilee and a visit to the Mount of the Beatitudes, where Jesus delivered the Sermon on the Mount. We were each invited to take a moment to contemplate and begin to process the last few weeks. On our way home, we drove to the border of Syria on a visit to Golan Heights. As I peered at the peaceful Syrian hills, I thought of the Syrian families at NSC and all they'd overcome to get to America. They see our country as a place of hope and safety; I sincerely hope that it stays that way.
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I don’t think I can truly even begin to talk about the Palestinian/Israeli conflict. It is tremendous, all consuming, and the complete opposite of an easy fix. As a visitor, it was easy to get caught up in the horrific injustices and to begin to take sides; one man staying at our hostel got so caught up in the conflict that he purposely missed his flight home, determined—for some unknown reason—to stay. The pain there is unmistakable and indisputable—at times, so heavy it's practically tangible, but throughout my time there, it was important to remind myself that I was not the one experiencing this pain. Regardless of the grief we witnessed on either side, it was, and will likely never be, ours. Each night, we would go home to a beautiful hostel. In just a few months, we would be heading home to America; this was merely a visit for us—an escape from our day-to-day lives. These people couldn’t leave the pain, the oppression, or the conflict. They couldn’t leave their worries about protecting the safety of their families from an Israeli soldier or a Palestinian rebel. We can empathize, yes, but we can never truly feel their immense suffering. What scares me is this very fact. We are not the ones experiencing this pain, yet we are the ones with the power over these peoples’ lives. The US plays a giant role in the politics of the Middle East, yet so few of our politicians, leaders, and guides have actually visited this place, actually met with these people, and actually lived the impacts they are constantly creating. How can we be so quick to create these world-altering decisions without first getting to know the very people whose lives may drastically change—without so much as asking what they would have us do? As this struggle is far from being over, I hope the US will begin to rethink its role and reflect on its impacts in the world’s many conflicts—particularly this one.
Finally, I want to say that it’s important to keep an open mind about the Middle East. Yes, the Palestinian people are being abused openly and awfully by the Israeli Zionist government, but when most of the world is turning a blind eye to this treatment, or even funding it as we do in the US, does what the Zionists are doing come as a real surprise? My point is that we mustn't so easily choose one side or the other. Our KIVU leader, Andy, would often say that this isn’t an either-side issue, but a human issue. I couldn't agree more. We must stop this “us” vs. “them” rhetoric across the board if we are to actually start improving lives. We are all human, we are all incredible & capable beings, and we should all be standing united if we are to begin to solve the conflicts and problems of our time.
I’m not sure just what I can do to help at this point in my life other than to share what I've seen and spread news of all the incredible and honorable people I was able to meet in an area of the world seemingly terrifying to the US. All I can say is that walls did not stop hospitality, checkpoints did not stop friendships, and humans did not stop being humans, not for a single instant.
Three weeks of laughs, tears, tours, walls, new friends, holy sites, souvenirs, puppies, pictures, ruins, dances, and endless memories—an eye opening experience to be forever treasured.
