Summer’s large brown eyes, framed with black mascara on long lashes, were listening to my questions. She had her hair covered to respect her family’s religious traditions, but her t-shirt showed a woman’s face made up like a cat with a black puff for a nose. My informal interview went on for an hour, during which we removed ourselves from the hub-hub of volunteers and visitors to the museum, and continued talking in another room.
I wanted to start with easy questions, so asked Summer where she is living. “I live in Beit Skariya in the middle of Gush Etzion,” Right away this did not make sense. How could her Palestinian village be in a settlement? So she explained that this very large complex of settlements, that together form the Gush Etzion Bloc that connects with West Jerusalem, has a hole in its middle where her village and 4 others continue to exist in spite of continuous efforts to dispossess them. These are agricultural villages and together once had 800 acres of land, but the settlements have confiscated all but 125 acres. Because the families in these 5 neighborhoods refuse to sell their land to the settlements, though they are offered huge amounts of money, they are embraced by Palestinians as resisters.
I knew immediately that Summer’s life at age 27 is defined by where she lives. “How is that for you?” I asked. She was quick to respond, the smile gone from her face,“I feel isolated, even during the big holidays. I can’t move around and visit relatives like everyone else can.” She went on to explain how there are now 2 checkpoints to cross to enter or leave her home - ever since there was a knife attack and a car ramming attack at the entrance to Gush Etzion back in 2014, when the number of such attacks on settlers by Palestinians spiked. She doesn’t dare walk through the checkpoints after dark, and doesn’t like having to ask a relative to come pick her up. But she works here in Bethlehem, and often has no choice but to travel late.
So Summer’s ID, which she must have on her at all times, reads “Residence: Gush Etzion.” Israel would rather she put her village name, but her father thinks that is a trap to use against them in Israel’s next move to take more of their land.
Next we talked about Summer’s education, because I wondered how she ended up here on the staff at the Palestine Museum of Natural History. She began her schooling in one nearby village and transferred to another in 4th grade. For 5th and 6th grades she was confined to her neighborhood due to the danger of traveling during the 2nd Intifada. A woman volunteered two rooms of her house to be classrooms for grades one to six. This is one of the ways Palestinians insisted on educating their children in spite of the violence caused by the occupation. For grades 7 to 10 Summer attended the public school where she had started elementary, but for eleventh and twelfth grades she enrolled in an agricultural high school. From there she was admitted to Hebron University and graduated with a BA in 2015. She is now studying for a Masters in Agribusiness at Al-Quds University in Jerusalem.
Its is probably clear that this much moving from school to school, including the “two-room schoolhouse” situation, would challenge most any child. Layer on top of that the fact that Summer, at a very young age, had to pass soldiers on the way to and from school, which meant being stopped, questioned, her schoolbag searched. She paused. “Were you scared?” Summer’s eyes began to fill with tears, and she cried. I apologized for causing her to re-visit what was clearly a traumatizing experience and said we could stop talking. But Summer wanted to continue. Maybe telling the story was more helpful than burying it.
“Has anyone else in your family gone to university?” No, she was the first, though now a younger sister is also going. To understand what this represents in Samar’s family, I needed to know about her siblings. She has 10 siblings from her father’s first wife who died of cancer. She is the oldest of five from his second wife. Her mother had been married before, had 4 children and then divorced. Divorcing and remarrying is highly unusual in Palestine, so I felt that Summer’s parents must be strong and interesting people. Summer thinks that she had more freedom than other young girls in her culture because of the spirit of resistance in her village and her family. They consented to her, a single woman, going far north to Jenin for an eight month course of study. To understand how much Summer has achieved, I will add that her father has been a farmer all his life, raising figs, almonds, grapes, plums and peaches. Her mother only completed 4th grade. Her aunts are illiterate.
And to understand how the occupation erodes the fabric of Palestinian life, I will add that the youth in Summer’s 5-village hold-out area must leave town if they want to start a family, because they are in Area C where Israel does not permit new building. Traditionally, when adult children marry, the family adds rooms onto their home for the new couple. She told me how one of her brothers is about to marry, and is secretly renovating the family home to accommodate him and his wife. Even such a renovation of an existing home, is illegal, and must be done undercover - not so easy when you are talking about construction materials.
Finally, only because it is closing time and we have to wrap up our conversation, Summer surprised me by the news that her 5 villages have petitioned Gush Etzion settlement to extend their sewage pipes into the villages, which apparently have no adequate infrastructure for wastewater. “What?!! The villages asked the settlement for a favor and the settlement is considering it?” Summer responded that not all settlers are violent, though some of them do attack her area and harm crops. Some settlers are normal people who understand the situation these 5 villages face and are willing to help. There is a settler woman who often gives her rides.
Samar says that settlers and soldiers (!) are also human beings - some good, some bad— well, maybe most bad, but still…
Saturday, July 27, 2019
Thursday, July 25, 2019
How to Become an Anti-Semite - and the Antidote
If you are not Jewish, and you listen to what Israel says about itself, and see what it does to Palestinians, you can easily become an anti-Semite. Israel says it is a Jewish state and speaks for all Jews everywhere. It says that the Jewish state is for Jews only, and passes laws that are meant to restrict Palestinian citizens of Israel from equal access to education and housing. It places military controls all over the West Bank and East Jerusalem to check the IDs of every Palestinian, search them if they want, deny them passage if they want, and keep them off roads that are for Jews only.
They allow Jewish settlers to confiscate Palestinian land, attack Palestinian farmers, burn their olive trees, throw stones at their children. They demolish Palestinian homes and charge them the cost of the demolition. They put Gaza in a genocidal grip fenced in and without enough clean water, electricity or medicine to survive. The abuses are too many to list here, but each one is a painful violation of human rights and/or international law.
Seeing all this, why would you like Jews? Indeed, you might think Israel wants to create anti-Semites, maybe to maintain its image as a persecuted victim that requires maximum security measures for its survival.
How to escape this push toward rejection of an entire ethnic group and its religion? The antidote is to substitute the word ZIONIST for ISRAEL and JEW. Zionists have created this system of inequality and injustice.
Zionism began as a Jewish secular, colonial project to take over the entire area of Palestine (from the river to the sea). Zionists worked to empty the land that they wanted for a Jewish state of all of its native inhabitants - the Palestinians. Their methods were the methods of war: to kill, to terrorize, to dispossess, to remove by any means necessary. The objective was to colonize, to possess, and then to create a message to the rest of the world that would defend what they had done. Many Jews worldwide opposed this Zionist project for various reasons such as foreseeing how it would be divisive, not wanting to leave the countries in which they had grown up, or understanding that it would be unjust to the native population.
But Zionists became excellent ambassadors for their project, especially among Jews who were discriminated against in their home countries like Russia or Eastern Europe, and Nazi Germany. They created phrases like , “A land without a people for a people without a land,” as if no one lived in Palestine. Or, “We will make the desert bloom,” as if Palestinians had never planted olive trees, almond and citrus groves, vegetables and native herbs. To this day Zionists can justify the military occupation of Palestine, with an infrastructure that not only controls the movement of Palestinians, but how much water they can drink and which roads they can drive on, where or if they can build a house. Palestinian daily life is an arduous experience, meant to wear them down until they leave.
And occupation slowly erodes civil society, fostering corruption in high places, deception and mistrust among the general populace, and a vast network of collaborators. The latter are cultivated by Israel to undermine community life. One example: A sick person in Gaza may seek a permit to be treated inside Israel. The permit is granted, and the sick person goes to the checkpoint at the “border”. The soldier there asks the sick person if he/she could name a neighbor who is a member of Hamas. Just one name, and no further requests will be made. “Only one name and I am free to go?” thinks the sick person, who is desperately ill. “Yes,” comes the lie. Because it will not be the last time the sick person’s vulnerability will be tapped.
This is Zionism. For this I encourage you to be anti-Zionist, never anti-Semitic.
Wednesday, July 17, 2019
A Few Things I Have Learned
A few things I have learned in the last two days.
At the 4-day conference that the City of Bethlehem has organized for Latin American-Palestinians living in the diaspora— “The Second Diaspora Convention”— I learned that the theft of Palestinian heritage via archeological digs and the confiscation of ancient artifacts started back in the 1920’s under British military control. In other words, Britain encouraged and supported the early Zionists’ efforts to prove that they were the original (and only?) inhabitants of Palestine. This they did under their Internationally sanctioned colonization of the area in the post-WWI “British Mandate.”
I have known about the more recent Israeli excavations, especially under the Old City of East Jerusalem, seeking thereby to prove Jewish historical ownership of everything from the river to the sea. Likewise, in the Northern West Bank town of Sebastia there is a well-preserved Roman amphitheater where settlers try to fly the Israeli flag. This is the Zionist dream that Israel is now pushing into reality. Their digging under the Old City is causing the Palestinian houses above ground to crack. Some families have had to evacuate their homes which are no longer safe. Thus Israel kills two birds with one stone: they get their stolen proof, and the Palestinians leave.
Do I sound cynical? I am not. It is not my nature. I am telling the truth according to reports from professional Israeli archeologists who question the methods being used by these opportunistic diggers, and reports of Palestinian journalists who have interviewed the dispossessed families. That is enough proof for me.
Another thing I learned is that the CIA has about 60 employees in none other than the city of Ramallah, the Palestinian equivalent of Washington DC.. Ramallah is a West Bank city, supposedly under Palestinian control. The CIA is there to advise the Palestinians on how to do security cooperation with Israel. Do you smell a rat? The Guardian newspaper reported in 2009 that half the PA’s budget is from international donors, and at least a quarter of that goes to security, which includes a force of about 7,500 security personnel - police, etc— trained by US, British, Canadian and Turkish army officers under the command of a US. General. (The Guardian, Dec, 17, 2009)
I could have researched this before now, because it is documented on the CIA website. But that is not a website I am accustomed to visiting!
Wednesday, July 10, 2019
Hello from Palestine Museum of Natural History
Wow! It is noisy in the Museum garden today because the campers, ages 13-15, boys and girls, are screaming in delight as they compete in the treasure hunt planned by the staff. These happy sounds are in such sharp contrast to the lives these kids live on a usual day. The staff is cheering them on with even greater enthusiasm, and their lives aren’t any easier. For them to get to work they must be prepared to be stopped anywhere along the way by young Israeli soldiers who start with an attitude of disdain for every Palestinian.
Thus our staff, university graduates, masters and doctoral candidates, skillful in running the Museum and the Institute of Biodiversity and Sustainability, are confronted by a high school graduate with an automatic weapon and an attitude. There is no telling where this confrontation will end, because the soldier does not need any excuse to arrest a Palestinian who is on his/her way to work.
Yet the staff arrive in good humor and dedication to our research, field work, and expansion of the botanical garden.
And the kids can forget about how the soldiers invaded a neighbor’s apartment during the night to arrest a 12 year old boy they accuse of “throwing stones”. It’s true that lots of kids, especially in poor neighborhoods throw stones at soldiers who are trespassing. But there is absolutely no proof that THIS child threw stones. Nevertheless, they take him from his bed at 2 or 3 a.m., forbid his parents from coming with him, take him somewhere in a jeep where he is pushed onto the floor under the soldiers’ boots, and interrogate him.
This is what these summer campers get to forget about, and to fill the air with their seemingly innocent laughter.
Ah, a staffer just brought me a popsicle like the ones he just distributed to the kids. I check the label to be sure it is a Palestinian-made treat, a habit I have from being in East Jerusalem where Israel prohibits most products made in Palestine. Of course, I needn’t have checked.
Jessie then instructs me to wash and save the popsicle stick, for not a single thing gets thrown away that might some day find another use. Recycle, upcycle, reuse, repurpose, and always remember to Respect the environment!
Tuesday, July 9, 2019
A Day in Hebron
A Day in Hebron - July 7, 2019
If you have ever been in Hebron, West Bank, Palestine, you think you know what I am going to tell you. You have seen how the extreme, violent settlers who live there have driven out the Palestinians from their shops and even their homes. You have seen how the shopkeepers in the Old City, already lacking what used to be a thriving tourist trade, have to protect their displays with overhead wire netting and plastic sheeting because the setters throw down their garbage, and worse, from their apartments above the shops. You have seen the permanently shuttered shops along Shuhada Street where settler moms push strollers, secure in their belief that they will not have to lay eyes on a Palestinian mom.
But I am going to tell you about a young man who just opened a hostel on the forth floor of a building in the commercial district. His name is Ghassan. He has a vision which requires tourists to come to Hebron, the city where he was born. He has a passion which is for tourists to learn the truth about Palestine. He is not naive; he spent two years in Europe experiencing freedom of movement before coming home. He knows first hand how the Hebron settlers are vicious in their hatred towards the likes of him. This very morning I watched a film made by the Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT) that documents that hatred, showing how settler children are encouraged to throw stones at Palestinian children. “Children here don’t know what a “human right” is. You ask them and they don’t know.”
So Ghassan speaks from his own life experience. “The Palestinian Authority has done nothing for me. There are no benefits, no free health care. They cooperate with Israel. They have money; where does it go?” Then, “The Jews will never give up this land, and Palestinians won’t give up this land. So the only solution is to share the land.” We think this sounds like the “one state solution”, but he disagrees, fearing that would lead to more violence. He has seen people killed right in front of him. “I don’t want to see blood.”
All these thoughts were shared with 5 women “tourists” in the hostel’s attractive sitting and dining area before we set out on a walking tour. Our first stop was at a checkpoint separating downtown from the Tel Rumeida neighborhood. I had been here 3 years ago, and notice that the checkpoint has been greatly reinforced. Ghassan was not sure the soldiers would let him through as he is not an official resident of Tel Rumeida. Without that specific ID, a Palestinian cannot pass, cannot visit a relative, cannot use this shorter route to get to another street. This unique discrimination is due to the activist resistance of this neighborhood and the fact that the settlers want it. The effect is that one can barely remember that this is one city, and it is a Palestinian city, not an Israeli city. One can barely remember that there was wholeness here until 1994. But that is another story.
Helping Ghassan guide us was Talal, an older man, father of 2 children, an unemployed mechanical engineer. As we walked through the streets, Talal said, “You know about Palestinians? We cannot think in terms of Future.” He explained, “We depend on help from powerful countries, and we have no power. We do not control what happens to us. Even the two major parties, Fatah and Hamas, have been driven apart by the Mossad ( Israeli intelligence). I thanked Talil for sharing his views with me.
That was my day in Hebron, if I don’t count the pottery shop that served us all hot tea while the owner hand painted the pottery he was selling. Or the craft shop in the old city that wouldn’t let me pay for the beaded Palestinian bracelets that I wanted to bring home to my Arabic teacher. Wouldn’t you like to be a tourist in Hebron?
Wednesday, July 3, 2019
Just Arrived and Already...
I arrived in East Jerusalem yesterday, about noon, tired but pleased to get through the airport without difficulty. As I lugged my too-heavy suitcase and carry-on into the Old City, I noticed the changes since I was here in the Fall of 2017. At the top of the stairs leading to the Damascus Gate entrance to the Old City was a new structure, an army guard post staffed with Israeli soldiers.
The plaza below, which I remember as bursting with activity of vendors and people, was empty. Nevertheless, there were more soldiers posted there, and more just inside the Gate. This Gate leads to the Muslim Quarter and the many Palestinian shops that give the Old City its flavor. It used to be fairly free of Israeli intrusions. Now, along with the soldiers, there are many Zionist Jews choosing this entrance in order to get to the Western Wall, or to their settler apartments scattered throughout the Old City.
My next observation, was the shock of seeing a large Israeli flag covering the wall space allotted to a new juice stand along the Palestinian market street leading to my hostel. It is catering to the greatly increased traffic of Jews coming into the Old City from Damascus Gate, thus laying claim to "their" city. Israel invaded and annexed East Jerusalem in 1967, and has since treated it as its territory, in spite of condemnation by the rest of the world. Then Mr. Trump moved the American Embassy to Jerusalem to support Israel's annexation and to destroy Palestinian ownership of half of the city.
When I reached the entrance to my hostel, which is on the corner where the Via Dolorosa bisects the market street, I saw that there is now a permanent army post right across the street from it. (Sigh, more soldiers.) Later, on my way back to the hostel after doing my initial errands like changing money and activating my local cell phone, the way was blocked by a phalanx of soldiers stopping all Palestinian pedestrian traffic while allowing Jews to pass by. For a moment I thought of trying to pass as well, which I am quite sure would have been allowed. But I quickly realized this would be using my White (non-Arab) Privilege to go where Palestinian (Arabs) could not go. Instead I took a picture of this demonstration of Apartheid at work.
This morning, leaving my hostel, I stopped to buy a bracelet with the colors of the Palestinian flag, like I wear at home but could not wear going through the Israeli airport. No sooner I made the purchase, than a young woman in a hijab, also buying souvenirs, greeted me in American English: "Where are you from?" she asked. I answered, "U.S." ( remembering not to say "America" as if the U.S. was all of America). She smiled and said she was from Kentucky, (!) and staying with her Palestinian aunt who lives in Ramallah. Her aunt was standing right there, and joined in our conversation. The aunt had not been to Jerusalem for seven years because Israel requires a permit for West Bankers to enter their own city of Jerusalem. However, she had managed to get the permit this time to accompany her niece on her first visit to Palestine. The aunt told me what I already knew, "It is easier for you to come to Jerusalem than for me."
I have been here less than 24 hours, and already apartheid Israel raises its ugly head. But by contrast, the Palestinian owners of the wonderful Educational Bookshop in occupied East Jerusalem spent 2 hours helping me with a technological snafu that wouldn't allow me to access a list with all my Palestine contacts. I would have been lost without it, so I almost panicked, but the help of strangers (plus the Skyping help of my U.S.-based computer guru) got around Google's protective reach. I am grateful to be here, learning from the Palestinians how to dodge the restrictions placed on daily life.
The plaza below, which I remember as bursting with activity of vendors and people, was empty. Nevertheless, there were more soldiers posted there, and more just inside the Gate. This Gate leads to the Muslim Quarter and the many Palestinian shops that give the Old City its flavor. It used to be fairly free of Israeli intrusions. Now, along with the soldiers, there are many Zionist Jews choosing this entrance in order to get to the Western Wall, or to their settler apartments scattered throughout the Old City.
My next observation, was the shock of seeing a large Israeli flag covering the wall space allotted to a new juice stand along the Palestinian market street leading to my hostel. It is catering to the greatly increased traffic of Jews coming into the Old City from Damascus Gate, thus laying claim to "their" city. Israel invaded and annexed East Jerusalem in 1967, and has since treated it as its territory, in spite of condemnation by the rest of the world. Then Mr. Trump moved the American Embassy to Jerusalem to support Israel's annexation and to destroy Palestinian ownership of half of the city.
When I reached the entrance to my hostel, which is on the corner where the Via Dolorosa bisects the market street, I saw that there is now a permanent army post right across the street from it. (Sigh, more soldiers.) Later, on my way back to the hostel after doing my initial errands like changing money and activating my local cell phone, the way was blocked by a phalanx of soldiers stopping all Palestinian pedestrian traffic while allowing Jews to pass by. For a moment I thought of trying to pass as well, which I am quite sure would have been allowed. But I quickly realized this would be using my White (non-Arab) Privilege to go where Palestinian (Arabs) could not go. Instead I took a picture of this demonstration of Apartheid at work.
This morning, leaving my hostel, I stopped to buy a bracelet with the colors of the Palestinian flag, like I wear at home but could not wear going through the Israeli airport. No sooner I made the purchase, than a young woman in a hijab, also buying souvenirs, greeted me in American English: "Where are you from?" she asked. I answered, "U.S." ( remembering not to say "America" as if the U.S. was all of America). She smiled and said she was from Kentucky, (!) and staying with her Palestinian aunt who lives in Ramallah. Her aunt was standing right there, and joined in our conversation. The aunt had not been to Jerusalem for seven years because Israel requires a permit for West Bankers to enter their own city of Jerusalem. However, she had managed to get the permit this time to accompany her niece on her first visit to Palestine. The aunt told me what I already knew, "It is easier for you to come to Jerusalem than for me."
I have been here less than 24 hours, and already apartheid Israel raises its ugly head. But by contrast, the Palestinian owners of the wonderful Educational Bookshop in occupied East Jerusalem spent 2 hours helping me with a technological snafu that wouldn't allow me to access a list with all my Palestine contacts. I would have been lost without it, so I almost panicked, but the help of strangers (plus the Skyping help of my U.S.-based computer guru) got around Google's protective reach. I am grateful to be here, learning from the Palestinians how to dodge the restrictions placed on daily life.
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