Letters
from Israel-Palestine
I/P Three: Area C (rhymes with olive tree)
Date: Thursday, the Fifth of February, 2009
Hello dear readers, and thank you for your patience while I have
engaged with my wordlessness. I haven't known too much what to write.
Not because I don't have ideas, I do- not because things haven't been
happening, they are. But because I have been experiencing more stasis
in my life in this place. This place is no longer the same curiously
disjointed reality that it used it be, I now feel this place in my
bones and know the rules and boundaries and where it's possible to step
alongside them.
Recent shifts in the political arena of the world, specifically the
inauguration of Obama, and the corresponding ceasefire in Gaza have
brought welcome news into my focus, and replaced my agitation and
turbulence with a sort of quietness. This was widely anticipated among
people here, and the "Daily Show" report on Gaza covered this
phenomenon directly: the military wishes of the current Israeli
administration were able to be carried out without interference during
Bush's rule, while Obama is as-of-yet an unknown case.
Meanwhile, the bread-and-butter of "why I'm here"-- bringing Jews to
meet Palestinians, has remained firmly in place. It's different while
there isn't a current Israeli offensive on Gaza-- a lot of my
Palestinian friends were a bit overwhelmed during that period of time.
By the end of my time here, I will have done ten trips with perhaps
twenty people who hadn't before spent any meaningful amount of time in Palestine.
I will share a few snapshots of life around here. I went to visit Abed
on his land, where he now lives in the same cave that his grandfather
used to live in. Abed doesn't have an easy life; there isn't any
infrastructure near him, so even the basic accommodation of water is
something that he has to plan around, and goes without more than he
should.
Abed
was born and raised away from this land, in a refugee camp along with
his parents. They would come to the land to visit it, and when he was
around ten years old, they were planting things here and there, just to
maintain connection with the place.
With the annexation and re-drafting of the borders around the Jerusalem
area, different types of development activity have happened near Abed's
land, and there is now a settlement neighborhood planned near him.
Israeli authorities and associated courts have stepped up efforts to
take his land. While he was not actively using the land, the land was
left in jeopardy, and 15 or so years ago, Abed decided to hang up his
urban life for a life in the country, among scrubby hillside and on the
edge of a hill overlooking southern Jerusalem, the neighborhood of
Malha, the Biblical Zoo, and a small checkpoint just below.
Abed now has small patches of land cultivated as a type of small-scale
no-chemical farming arrangement, and folks come out every week to help
upkeep and work on small projects around the place: putting up a
tarp-structure to have a nice place to hang out under during inclement
weather, helping to plant, and recently Abed has started selling
Palestinian farmers' vegetables from his land as a weekly market (shuk)
event. As of now, the fate of his land is tied up in the courts, but in
general it's hard for Palestinians to maintain their land that has been
earmarked for expropriation by a development.
Abed gets support from all types of people, not the least of which are
Israeli-- during the shuk, which was a minor impromptu celebration,
Israeli pals of his did things like staff the sales of olive oil
products and other produce, weighing the vegetables and handling the
money. Abed shmoozed with his neighbors, welcoming guests, offering the
requisite tea and coffee to all comers.
Abed now sleeps in a cave on the land, the same cave that his
grandfather used to sleep in. The outside of the cave is built-up
slightly and reinforced by mortar and bricks, and Israeli authorities
have determined his dwelling to be in violation, since he didn't use a
building permit (which would have been impossible to get in any case.)
The cave is legal, but not the bricks and mortar which extend the
entrance a couple of feet. So there is now also a demolition order
against the mouth of his cave. Strange times.
On Friday, I trekked my journey westward to visit Abu Akhmed in Budrus,
who I've known now for 5 years. At his job as union rep of the
employees union at the ministry of interior, he makes house calls to
various members of the union, travelling throughout the Ramallah
governorate.
Right now there is a tension within the direction of the PA: many
people in the past were appointed to positions throughout the authority
based on resistance to the occupation, another way of saying that
they've done jail time. The only two positions within the authority
that require a degree are doctors and teachers, for everyone else, some
people complete a college degree, and others are appointed as having
sufficient experience. And in some fields, a man who spent five years
in Israeli jails actually is more qualified, has more knowledge about
his field, than another man who spent five years in college.
Salaam Fayyad, contentiously the Palestinian prime minister, is
currently instituting a reform whereby people will not be able to get
jobs requiring qualifications unless they have a degree. This
represents a power shift away from those who have been involved in
resistance (or suspected of it) and towards those who have kept their
noses clean, stayed quiet, or who worked in collaboration with the
occupying Israeli military.
This shift could be viewed as a non-holistic way of approaching human
resources, one that will not incorporate people involved in resistance
into the PA bubble, but rather require them to move towards out-and-out
resistance movements; or perhaps this will shape the PA to be "fit for
negotations" with Israel, since there won't be so many
"scary terrorists" associated with the organization.
'Chiloni' Shabbat
Last shabbat, I had an opportunity to visit a family in Jayyous, so I
decided to turn in my tallit for the day in exchange for this
opportunity. Jayyous is an eminently agricultural village of around
4000 people, which bases its existence on the ancient olive trees
blanketing the hillside near the town. They used to also be
economically connected to Qalqilya, the nearest Palestinian city, but
since the wall was built encircling the city and the checkpoint at the
one gated entrance has been restrictive of access to even West Bank
Palestinians, their connection has decreased tremendously.
Emily is a human rights lawyer and student based in Tel Aviv,
supporting Palestinians engaged in legal battles for their basic
rights, and several months ago she ended up at a rather hairy
demonstration inside the village of Jayyous, where a recent court
decision has moved the "separation barrier" slightly further away from
their village than it currently stands, the implementation of which
would destroy another large swath of centuries-old olive trees, which
are currently on the other side of the fence/road amalgamation. It took
for me actually going there and seeing the olive trees to wrap my head
around this idea: the villagers are protesting getting back some of
their land onto their side of the fence. Whether or not this is
worthwhile depends on your perspective of the Israeli/Palestinian
endgame with regard to final status borders (ie if they will exist in
our lifetime, if they will be based on the route of The Wall, or if
they will be based on the '67 Green Line.)
After tear gas and rubber bullets were resounding throughout the
village, Emily took refuge with some other family members in a
particular house, where she met Libna. Emily learned, in the spare time
afforded their common shelter, that Libna had recently had a kidney
operation, and couldn't afford the medicines that she needed to be
taking afterwards. She put out a call for donations from Israelis and
internationals for support (attached below.)
On Saturday, three of us drove to Jayyous from Tel Aviv, a trip that
took about 45 minutes. We went for various reasons, but one significant
reason for our visit was to bring money and medications that were
donated to support Libna. We first spent an hour or two at her house,
speaking with her, and her older male relatives, about life, the
situation, while a shy parade of children ducked in and out of our
views, and giggled endlessly at the entertainment we provided them.
We moved on to Noor's house, where we separated by gender, and I spent
a good many hours discussing politics alternately in Hebrew and English
with Noor and his relatives. His nephew lives in Israel in a
Palestinian town near Kfar Saba; he (somewhat suprisingly) favors a
two-state solution. How would he visit his uncle in Jayyous? (in the
future State of Palestine) With a passport, he replies.
Noor's brother Salah lives in the same house as him, in Jayyous. Salah
very much favors one-state, because he appreciates diversity and he
wants to sit on the same council as Christians and Jews. And
internalized racism pokes its head in: the Jews know how to make a good
State, with police stations and everything. He doesn't have the
confidence in Arabs to do such a thing.
Overall, the tone of the afternoon was one of mutual respect and
comfort. The political discussion often were intermingled with
political overtures: "What are we fighting for? What is this? Is this
life? No, we need to live together in peace." As much experience as I
have with Palestinians, it was still moving, and has put a mental note
in my head that this family would be a great one for Israelis in
particular to meet, to experience humanity from 'the other.' Salah is
a true mensch, and can put his harsh experiences aside, the rubber
bullets being fired outside as we sit comfortably sipping tea, in order
to communicate that he wants to live with me, side by side.
(Also, Jayyous is Area C, so it's legal for Israelis to go there)
My second cousin once-removed, of my parents' generation, lives just 20
minutes away in Kfar Saba. In'shalla, next time I come I can bring her
to meet her neighbors.
May our words be raised up and resonate with the greatest
Peace,
Jacob
Be sure that every deed counts, that every word has power, and that we
all can do our share to redeem the world in spite of all its
absurdities and frustrations and disappointments... let [us] remember
to build a life as if it were a work of art.
-A J Heschel
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