But I'm Innocent, I Swear!

Although I have been here for more than eight months, there have been restrictions on my travel into the West Bank. It is only now, with only 2 ½ months to go, that I am venturing in to Ramallah regularly to volunteer with a women’s organization there. I feel like now I have a lot less to lose if I get busted and booted out of the country.

So, after all this time, I am now experiencing a ‘real’ checkpoint, Khalandiya. Up until now the others were just checkpoints with training wheels. The first time I went through Khalandiya, my stomach was in knots. The only thing that I can liken it to is how Hollywood portrays prison security. Clanging bars, inaudible PA systems, red/green lights, and people routinized to a system that only convicted criminals should experience.

I’m not all that sure if I understood the whole process, but this is what I worked out of the system: You queue up at several turnstiles. (Actually, that’s not true. You queue up for one or two turnstiles. All of the rest aren’t manned.) The turnstiles are not your average waist-high subway turnstiles. These contraptions are about 10 feet high and connected to a fence. There are soldiers behind glass who regulate when the turnstile will operate. So, if you are standing in line, the soldiers may close that turnstile and you quickly run to the next available queue. There were two queue stampedes while I was there, but I just stayed put seeing how I had no idea what was going on to begin with.

Once you get through the first turnstile, you put your belongings through an x-ray machine and you show your ID to the aforementioned soldiers behind the glass. This is where I mucked up. I didn’t see them there, so I got my bag and proceeded to the next turnstile. After realizing my mistake, I turned back to see that I was holding up the queue of starving people wanting to get home for iftar dinner (it is the holy month of Ramadan). I slapped my passport against the glass and queued up for the second turnstile. Then the bus back to Jerusalem was stopped again as we left the parking lot for another ID check.

The whole process is definitely disconcerting. You can help but feel like the next turnstile will lead to a head shaving and delousing station. The soldiers behind the window aren’t even old enough to drink in the U.S., and I shudder when I think of their conditioning. One of the key components of the security checkpoint system is to promote an atmosphere of vulnerability and uncertainty among the Palestinian population--the arbitrariness of checkpoint closures has been well-documented by international observers. I just can’t stop thinking of the Stanford Prison Experiment, and how these kids are given so much power over other human beings.



While I’ve been working on my paper, I came across a U.N. report that noted between September 2000 and December 2002, 19 women and 29 newborn infants died at military checkpoints. From 2002 to 2005, 52 pregnant women gave birth at military checkpoints. I couldn’t even imagine being in labor and having some 18 year-old kid tell me that I am not allowed to go to the hospital because I am a ‘security threat’.

It helps to understand the ID system designed to restrict movement of Palestinians within the West Bank and Gaza Strip. I don’t think that most people are even aware that these checkpoints are within the Palestinian territories—not just keeping Palestinians out of Israel. In the OPT, there are three types of IDs: West Bank, Jerusalem or Gaza. West Bankers require a permit in order to cross checkpoints along the Green Line and into Jerusalem. They also require an additional permit to travel from one Palestinian town to another or to enter the industrial zone where they work. Someone with a Jerusalem ID is permitted to travel in and out of Jerusalem and throughout most of the OPT, but this is generally in theory. People are fearful of losing their Jerusalem residency and they are just as vulnerable to harassment by border and civil police.

Could you imagine if you lived in this system? A permit to pick your kids up from school? A checkpoint between you and your next Grande-double shot-no whip-Frappachino? That would be one short assed occupation if an entire generation of U.S. soccer moms were restricted from their Saturday morning Pilates class and the end-of-season sale at Talbots. Oooh, was that snarky? Sorry--Feeling kind of irritable right now. And I’m not even fasting anymore.

One Million Voices to End the Conflict

If this was view outside your window every morning, would you ever return to Palestine to continue writing a blog? Well, I did return from Norway, although not just to write this blog. I am trapped under a landslide of work, school, and obligations. So, while I am back, I'm not going to be the most consistent blogger...


...BUT, I thought this was a really important event, so I wanted to post this website. I hope everyone adds their voice and tries to attend one of the events for One Million Voices to End the Conflict. Inshallah, I will be at the Jericho event on October 18th. Please pass the information on to everyone you know!

I'll never have an eating disorder here...

Let me apologize now for what is likely to be a post loaded with typos. The problem is that I am lying on my bed with my laptop balanced on my bulging belly making it difficult for me to tap the keys with any degree of accuracy. I have just come back from dinner at a friend’s house where her mother made a deeeee-licious meal. True to Palestinian hospitality, they stuffed me like a Koosa Mahshi. This, by the way, is exactly what we had for dinner.

I am a huge fan of Thai food. I love Mexican food. I consider Chinese a real treat. But if you want the best home cooked food on the planet, Palestine is the place to be. Koosa Mahshi is probably my favorite dish. The first time I had it was with a friend of a friend from Nablus. After one bite, I thought to myself that if I lived here permanently, I would need to invest in some elastic waist pants. Not exactly a Weight Watchers approved dish. Of course, that isn’t going to stop me from trying to make it myself.

Koosa Mahshi is stuffed zucchini. It is stuffed with rice, ground beef and what I can only guess is a little bit of heaven and then poached in the oven. Then it is simmered in a sauce made of dried goat yogurt. I know I tasted cardamom, but I’m not sure if it was in the stuffing or the sauce. My friend’s mother also made some amazing lamb and salad. The meal was topped off with a cup of sweet Arabic coffee which will no doubt have me staring at the ceiling well into the wee hours of the morning. Ah…it is all worth it though.

Eric, Here's Your Damn Post...

Yes, I KNOW June 10th was my last post. My dear friend has sent me several emails with the last post in the email body. Alright, already! I fell down the rabbit hole, OK?

Actually, I have been in "Arabic Bootcamp" at Hebrew University. They offer an intensive Literary Arabic course and I figured I could continue being a human being while taking it. I figured wrong. It was truly the most brutal course of my academic career...and I'm the kind of gal who sets the bar pretty high to begin with. The course was 5 1/2 hours a day, 5 days a week, PLUS there was 5 hours of homework a night. Brutal. I'm still suffering from some post-traumatic stress from the experience so I will refrain from expressing any opinions about the program until my head is clearer.

I realize I have missed some really important events while I've been away. I have been scribbling notes on scraps of paper so I could get back to the house to write a post about events as they came up. Alas, I was a slave to this course. I'll try to do better in the future.

The People Who Should Be in the News

Ok, I'm getting some saddle sores from ranting on top of my high horse in the last few posts.

Moving on... At Tantur this weekend, my friend was exhibiting pictures from her Palestinian children's photo project. Check out the link below to see Palestine through the eyes of children. It really is such a great organization and I really admire her dedication to non-violent resistance. http://www.contrastproject.org/

One last thing, I just saw a documentary about the Parent's Circle. This is a group of Palestinians and Israelis who have lost their children or family to violence and have realized that the only way for the conflict to end is for them to reach out to others who have lost loved ones. http://www.theparentscircle.org/about.asp

The movie is titled Encounter Point. If you can find a screening of it, please watch it. At the very least, watch the trailer below. It will change the way you see the conflict--or at least you'll be able to see Palestinians and Israelis the way I see them. Turn off the news and meet the real people in this conflict:



http://www.encounterpoint.com/trailer/quicktime7.php

See No Evil, Hear No Evil...even when it hits you like a 30 foot wall.

This weekend I went to Tantur for part of the June 5th Initiative events. Above is a picture of the set-up. It seems pretty fitting that the Wall is snaking behind the stage. It kind of puts to bed the notion that this is just a "fence". It is so tragic that many Israelis aren't even aware of how the Wall is weaving through the West Bank--not along the Green Line. The intention is to encircle Jerusalem to create new boundaries. The consequence is that Palestinian families are finding themselves on the wrong side of the fence and being physically barricaded from their family and neighbors, their property on the other side, their jobs, their hospitals... Could you imagine if you woke up one morning and found that the end of your street, on which you've lived your entire life, was blocked off by soldiers and your new view was of a concrete slab. Holy crap, I've heard of bigger protests coming from neighborhood associations demanding the dismantlement of tacky lawn ornaments. This is a little more important than pink flamingos.

I think that the Israelis who came to the events at Tantur were very courageous and I admire their curiosity. One friend was asked quite a few questions. One asked if the Wall was really as big as the activists were saying it was. She just kind of blinked and pointed behind her. "It's right there." They were absolutely shocked that they hadn't seen it. I bet they were wondering "How did I miss that big, fucking Wall?

I'm always a little suspicious when an expat begins passionately talking about the Occupation and speaks critically of all Israeli citizens. As if the reaction to the occupation by the average Israeli on the street was so uncommon on the historical continuum of this violent, hateful world; people naturally avoid seeing things and addressing topics that make them uncomfortable. Wasn't the Holocaust indicative of that? How 'bout Rwanda? How 'bout Sudan RIGHT NOW? How many people regularly discuss the desperate poverty and crime within their own country? How many people really delve into the issues behind the endemic homelessness in cities around the world, especially the U.S.? How many people recognize that human trafficking and child pornography exists everywhere? How many people really take the time to get to know other people from different races, religions, and economic stratum? Let alone get involved to put an end to human suffering within their own borders? People don't ask the hard questions because usually they're not ready to hear the answers and make the tough choices necessary to act. Scratch that. Once you know the reality, acting is not a "choice", it is a moral obligation mandated by all religions. Don't like that reality? Become an atheist--I'm sorry if I offended any atheists.

Social ills exist everywhere in one form or another. I suppose this is part of the reason I can't be "pro" or "anti" anything. I think that we all need to address social justice issues in countries outside our own with a little more humility and a little less "us against them" arrogance. I don't mean that Palestinians and Israelis should do anything. I have no business telling people who have suffered from experiences that I hope to never know, what they "should" or "should not" do. When I say "we", I'm talking about the expat community that becomes voluntarily entrenched in the conflict. What this conflict needs is a group of people who can show their support while remaining vigilant watchdogs for opportunities that lead to peace. Sadly, I don't know too many expats courageous enough to build relationships in both East & West Jerusalem.

My Kind of War

I hope these guys make it huge--so unbelievably talented. Check out more of their videos at http://www.baratsandbereta.com/

I'm Studying Sign Language

I attended my first Women in Black demonstration this past Friday to stand in protest of 40 years of occupation. Many cars honked their horns and gave a thumbs up as they passed by, but I also learned quite a few new hand signs. The first few times that I saw one particular hand gesture, I interpreted it as being supportive and a sign of solidarity. I later found out it is far more offensive than the old school middle finger. This was probably one of the few times I was grateful that I didn't understand Hebrew. Oy! Do they kiss their mothers with those mouths?

When I was doing research on the Israeli Peace Camp, I was always fascinated by the group of women who have been standing in silent protest every week since the first Intifada. Out of all the peace groups, Women in Black is clearly the most moderate, yet they evoke the most contempt from the right-wing elements of society. Check out some very cool women's groups here: http://coalitionofwomen.org/home

What is it about a group of non-confrontational women--mostly mothers and grandmothers--that makes grown men scream obscenities and shake their fists in rage. Existing literature has led me to conclude that women’s groups that voice opposition to the Occupation are especially vulnerable to hostility--more so than all other groups in the Peace Camp. Women's activism is seen more as a betrayal because they deviate from expected gender roles. When people protest they are often labeled leftist or radicals. When a group of women stand in protest, especially middle aged women, their presence lends more credibility to the cause and their protest serves to shame a community. The reaction therefore is less political and more personal.

Ayala Emmett, one of the contributors to Our Sisters’ Promised Land: Women, Politics, and Israeli-Palestinian Coexistence, wrote that counter-demonstrators at the silent vigils in Israel used to hold signs that read: “The Women in Black are longing for Auschwitz”, “The Women in Black—A Knife in the Back of the Nation” and “We ‘recognize’ Black Widows. We recognize that they can kill, and we recognize that they are insects.” By evoking national symbols of vulnerability, the counter-protest signs implied that women in the Peace Camp are betraying the Jewish collective.

Last year, I did a news search for articles about the Peace Camp in Israeli media starting from 1988. I was horrified by the vilification of women's and bereavement groups that want dialogue. In 1990, the Jerusalem Post had an article about attacks on Women in Black. The Kach youth movement would distribute leaflets in Jerusalem listing the names, phone numbers and addresses of members of the Women in Black organization. As a result of this listing, the women had become targets of death threats and threats against the lives of their families. Other callers threatened to burn their houses down. All for standing in silence in a supposedly "free" society. (Margot Dudkevitch. “KACH NAMES WOMEN IN BLACK.” The Jerusalem Post. August 24, 1990, Friday. News. Accessed through Lexis Nexus Academic.) I've also read about cars that have tried to swipe at the women protesters and opposition groups who sprayed protesters with bug spray. Maybe there should be some community workshops on how to use constructive debate instead of vehicular manslaughter to prove our points.

In my research, I found that Israeli society is generally uncomfortable with being occupiers. The symbols of occupation are deliberately kept out of sight, so the average Israeli never actually crosses a checkpoint, sees the Wall or enters East Jerusalem, West Bank or the Gaza Strip. The "occupation" is more of an abstract concept. Yet, like the bogeyman in a child's closet, the specter of Palestinian injustice and its attendant rage is always lurking in their subconscious. When they see people who look just like their mothers standing in the light of day with signs that remind them that the Occupation is real and it is wrong, people don't know how to process their feelings constructively. Like a petulant child being punished for their bad behavior, they lash out at "mommy".

Man, this country could use some serious time on the psychiatrist's couch. Interestingly enough, the other day I was thinking "hmmm, so do I"...for moving to this cognitive rubik cube of a town in the first place.

"Those People"

I often hear people make comments about Palestinians in blanket terms. Lots of "they all" or "those people" believe this or that. Sometimes the comment isn't even about Palestinians--it's a blanket comment about all Arabs...or all Muslims but they invoke the word "Palestinian" to give some kind of legitimacy to their comment. Don't even get me started about how these folks are throwing the semantics right into the Cuisinart...As if a Palestinian was the same as a Kuwaiti, and a Kuwaiti was interchangeable with a Tunisian; which of course makes a Tunisian the same as an Indonesian.

The fact is one can be an Arab without being Muslim. One can be a Muslim without being an Arab. One can be a Palestinian without wanting to strap a bomb belt on and march into a Sbaro. But I don't think that one can be a Palestinian and not feel the pain of Occupation. I'm not even Palestinian and my heart breaks a little more each day with the things that I see.

Below is a poem that I really liked. It's a conversation between two types of people who share the same pain.

You & I
By Mahmood Jamal

You want to speak of War
I want to speak of Peace

You say Punish
I say Forgive

You speak of God’s Wrath
I speak of His Mercy

Your Qur’an is a Weapon
My Qur’an is a Gift

You speak of the Muslim Brotherhood
I speak of the Brotherhood of Man

You like to Warn others
I like to Welcome them

You like to speak of Hell
I like to speak of Heaven

You talk of Lamentation
I talk of Celebration

You worship the Law
I worship the Divine

You want Silence
I want Music

You want Death
I want Life

You speak of Power
I speak of Love

You search out Evil
I warm to the Good

You dream of the Sword
I sing of the rose Petal

You say the world is a Desert
I say the world is a Garden

You prefer the Plain
I prefer the Adorned

You want to Destroy
I want to Build

You want to go Back
I want to move Forward

You are busy Denying
I am busy Affirming

Yet there might be one thing
On which we see eye to eye

You want Justice
So do I

You can choose how to view the world: with optimism and faith or pessimism and doubt.

Should We Boycott Thinking? Seriously, I Don't Know...

This morning I received an email from an Israeli acquaintance asking me to sign a petition against the UCU's recent motion to boycott Israel. British University and College Union (UCU) had passed a motion on Wednesday to promote a boycott on Israel's academics. The boycott is in response to what members argued was "an apartheid state, engaging in crimes against humanity in the occupied territories. They said the situation in the territories did not allow spectators to stand idly by." The motion was approved by a 158 to 99 vote, and called for freezing European funding for Israeli academic institutions, while condemning "Israeli academia's cooperation with the occupation." According to Ha'aretz, The motion called for freezing all EU funding for Israeli academic institutions until Israel will "comply with the United Nation's resolutions."

I am absolutely stumped as to how I feel about the boycott. On the one hand, I applaud the courage of people who stand up for what they believe in spite of the consequences. And by "consequences" I mean the deluge of anti-Semitic labels that will be plastered on all 158 offending members. But UCU is not alone. According to the Palestinian Campaign for the Academic & Cultural Boycott of Israel, 130 British doctors called for the boycott of the Israeli Medical Association and its expulsion from the World Medical Association. The National Union of Journalists also declared a boycott of Israeli goods at their annual meeting in April in response to the Israeli "aggression" in the war with Lebanon in the summer of 2006. There is something so exciting about direct action campaigns that sometimes I'm not all that sure I care what the movement is actually about.

In this case, I DO care and so I am even more intrigued. Is this a tipping point? Is this the beginning of something? Is there an anti-Apartheid grassroots movement a-brewin' reminiscent of the 80's South African divestment campaigns? One that is of the "little less talk and a little more action" variety when it comes to solidarity with Palestinians? In the U.S., Columbia, Princeton, Harvard, MIT, Tufts, University of California, and the University of Pennsylvania have announced their commitment to a divestment campaign and there are campaigns in 50 other U.S. universities trying to garner wide-spread support. This activism is clearly in spite of the big fat black mark those institutions are likely to get from pitbull, I mean, watchdog groups like Campus Watch.

This leads me to the inexplicable squicky feeling that came over me when I read the email and the subsequent news articles I found. One of the reasons the UCU boycott doesn't sit well is the fact that it specifically targets Israeli academics regardless of their affiliations or political positions. My blood boils every time I come across Campus Watch because they defame respected academics who have different ideological views and often write or teach in ways that are critical of Israel. Campus Watch's vitriolic attacks are intended to censor not only the offending scholar but any others who may share a similar perspective. So, when I read that a group of UK academics are rejecting Israeli scholarship based on their own ideological convictions, I have to wonder if priorities are well placed. The university setting is supposed to be a place of free thinking and a fertile ground for social change, so I wonder if avenues a dialogue are being road-blocked in an attempt to join a growing movement. I wonder if, instead of a boycott, a more affective tactic would have been a call for active debate between Israeli scholars and their UK counterparts.

On the other hand, if a boycott against an offending state is going to work, its gotta hurt all aspects of the state. Israeli universities are mostly state-funded and a large percentage of the Israeli population benefits from the higher education system. If students become directly affected by an institutional boycott then perhaps more grassroots Israeli dialogue and activism will develop. One would hope. Then again, critical introspection usually is the best answer for everything, yet rarely employed. I can't think of too many occasions when an offending collective spontaneously issued a mea culpa after a sharp international rebuke.

I am interested in hearing more about this debate. It will be exciting to learn about the strategies divestment organizers will use. From a U.S. perspective, it is really positive that there are some Ivy League heavy hitters on board to lend credibility to the campaign. My one hope is that it isn't all in vain. I hope there are experienced organizers at the helm of this movement because otherwise it will be yet another opportunity for the international community to let the Palestinian people down.

Get Your War On

There are a couple of things that, I don't experience very often, but consistently have brought me a lot of joy: winter trips to the beach, online chats with my niece & nephew, a really good diner breakfast, the accidental afternoon pitcher of margaritas, and of course the sarcastic biting humor of "Get Your War On".

One of my most prized possessions is an autographed poster by GYWO creator David Rees. Last year, The Rude Mechanicals were doing their stage performance of the GYWO comic strip in DC and I was unable to attend. David Rees was there for a post-performance discussion, and my friends didn't forget me. God bless 'em.

Above is probably the tamest dialogue in the entire series, but click the image if you want to get the full cussin' & swearin' effect. Rees really captured the post 9/11 sentiment shared by a lot of people I know. Beneath the sarcastic barbs is a whole lot of rage and frustration, but his brand of humor and sharp political analysis was a real comfort to a lot of us who felt that our country was being highjacked by special interests. If you enjoy Jon Stewart, then definitely check out GYWO.

..and My Feminist Facade Bakes Off at 350 degrees

I'm kind of thinking that maybe I shouldn't limit my career options to gender empowerment & Middle East pursuits. I think that maybe I should re-examine my Betty Crocker roots and embrace the inner Barbara Billingsley. Lately, I have been enjoying the escape that creative expression provides...and by "creative expression", I mean expressing myself with colored sugar and edible flowers. Of course, I realize that making a career out of cake decorating could very well lead to some thicker treads on my already over-inflated spare tire--still I have a lot of fun in the kitchen. Plus, I don't have to think about my day-to-day reality while I'm trying to figure out the best way to convey the map of Palestine on a 9 x 13 sheet cake with only a handful of Petit Buerre cookies, a jar of chocolate spread, colored sugar beads and a wooden camel.

Last night, we had a Pirate Party so I had an opportunity to resume my "art". I was a little crushed for time, so it wasn't my finest work, but it served its purpose.

An oft quoted theory is that no two democracies have ever gone to war with one another. After looking around the room at all the happy cake-eaters I would say, that when people are eating cake, they're not even thinking of war. They're thinking about more cake...and maybe icecream. What this world needs now--more than ever--is cake. I might just be the gal who will bake it for them.

Before there was MJ Rosenberg, there was Hanan Ashrawi

When I was going on and on about MJ Rosenberg, I don't know how I could have forgotten my favorite female hero...Hanan Ashrawi. I'm at work right now, and I'm checking the links on the NGOs website. That's when I came across the website "Miftah". It's been a while since I've been there and I forgot what a great source it is for Israel/Palestine news.

Hanan Ashrawi is one of the reasons I have a passion about the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. For quite some time I was very pro-Israel, and it was her book "This Side of Peace" that helped me recognize that my understanding of the situation was heavily biased. It is always a bitter pill to swallow when you admit to yourself that you don't know everything about everything. Of course, it is extremely frustrating to always try to see both sides of both sides. It is a whole lot more comfortable to just pick a team and be ignorant. "Blissful" you might say. So Dr. Ashrawi, I thank you for the enlightment, and I resent you for the cognitive dissonance.

Check out her organization's website: http://www.miftah.org/

I'm in Love with I...ichannel, that is

Actually, I think I'm in love with the brother. I'm not sure how I found it, but I get such a kick out of ichannel. Someone put up the entire movie "28 Days Later" on YouTube, and it scared the hell out of me. I had to keep clicking to other videos until I got up the nerve to watch it again, so this clip must have been linked to "28 Days Later". Odd. They're not exactly in the same genre...ichannel is up to episode 16 now. Go to YouTube to see the rest, it will suck you right in.

Sometimes it's not what you say...

Early this week I gazed into the cataract clouded eyes of the sweetest bit of crazy I've ever seen. Buckets of rain were dumped on this city, and so I opted to take the bus home from work. While waiting for the #75 to fill up, a teeny, tiny, wee little Hajjah sat down next to me. She was approximately 215 years old and I pray that if I ever make it to her age, I hope that I am that cute.

Soon after we departed the bus station, she began to make chit chat. Unsure if she was chatting with me or with herself, I didn't bother to ask her to repeat what she said. I made noncommittal umms & uh-huhs and tried to cope with the discomfort of not knowing the language well enough to follow along with her dementia. I decided that she was indeed talking to me, but it didn't really matter if I understood or not. She just had something to say.

I overheard her conversation with the driver, so I knew that she wanted to go to Makassat Hospital. The other passengers repeatedly assured her that this bus would take her close to her destination. I, on the other hand, was going to Ilmuttallah Hospital--a quick detour from the normal bus route. The driver asked her several times whether she meant Makassat or Ilmuttallah, and he explained that we were going to stop at Ilmuttallah first.

As my travel companion chatted away, I found myself looking directly at her sweet little face. She had quite a bit to say about the Israeli soldiers who were now peppered all over the neighborhoods near Damascus Gate. She also had quite a bit to say about Makassat Hospital. Rather, the people either in or around Makassat were on her mind. In her opinion, there is a whole lot of crazy there. She just kept saying crazy, crazy, crazy. It was pretty clear that she wasn't looking for a response, but I felt compelled to let her know that I was paying attention to her. I said in my broken Arabic, "I'm sorry Hajjah. I don't understand everything. I only speak a little Arabic." She beamed.

Naturally, the first question she had for me was "Are you married?" In Arabic class, in order to assuage my annoyance with this daily question/judgement, my teacher taught me to say two things: 1) "Its none of your business" and 2) "I am single, and I have no worries about it." Neither one seemed appropriate in this context, so I said: "No, but God is generous" Clearly she was tickled with this topic, and the best I could make out from her response was either she had thought I had already been married many times, OR she has been married many times. I'm putting my money on the latter. She continued to cackle away to herself for quite some time.

The bus approached the intersection where the driver turns either left for Ilmuttallah Hospital or right for Makassat Hospital. He called back to the passengers to see if any of us needed Ilmuttallah and I called back "aiwa". The name Ilmuttallah put my companion into quite a spin. Despite several passengers trying to come her down, the Hajjah jumped up, yelled "Makassat!! Makassat!! Makassat!! and darted off the bus. She was surprisingly spry for her age.

Despite not knowing what she was saying to me, that was probably the best conversation I've had since I've been here.

crack, crack, boom

On Monday, I started working with an amazing female-run Palestinian NGO that aims to empower women politically and seeks to end violence against women in Palestinian society. This organization is one of the reasons I wanted to do research on Palestinian women's organizations to begin with, so admittedly I am a little bit star struck.

I can honestly say that this the first time I have ever had a checkpoint as part of my daily commute to work. And I thought taking the Red Line in DC was a pain in the ass...On my first day, as the bus drove through the checkpoint, I caught a glimpse of a young soldier pushing a middle aged woman and then forcefully shoving a man my father's age. I am not a good enough writer to be able to convey the feeling that this encounter evoked. "Perverse" comes to mind. "Shame" is another. I think that I always assumed that when faced with abuses of power that I would be courageous. I would be compelled to step forward. But, I didn't. Like the rest of my fellow commuters, I just continued on to my destination.

Two hours later, I am sitting at my new desk sifting through some of the organization's documents. All of a sudden, I hear crack, crack...BOOM! By now, I am used to these sounds. It could be fireworks (yes, they shoot them off even in the middle of the day...and no, I don't know why), it could be a truck back-firing, it could be teargas canisters being tossed by soldiers, it could be construction noises...in general, this is not a quiet place. Then my Palestinian co-worker ran in and said "Did you hear the bomb?" So, we tried to assess the situation from my window that faces the huge grotesque "security" wall. Some people seemed to be hesitating by the wall opening but otherwise, life was going on as "normal".

Could you imagine this happening elsewhere? You're sitting down to have lunch at work and you hear a loud explosion. After a cursory glance out the window, you return your attention to the matter at hand. Oooh, egg salad!

I don't know how much coverage there is of the Nakhba, otherwise known by Palestinians as "the catastrophe". This day marks the anniversary of the establishment of the State of Israel and the crushing blow to Palestinian national aspirations. Israelis celebrated this event a couple of weeks ago along with their Memorial Day. The Palestinians in Jerusalem don't have the luxury of having a Memorial Day. Just in case they forgot, they were reminded of their constant state of occupation by the Israeli flags that have been hung throughout our East Jerusalem neighborhood just for this occasion and by an influx of hundreds of young flag & rifle toting soldiers taking a "tour" of East Jerusalem neighborhoods.

I suppose if this wasn't enough to jog their collective memories, the crazy assed Jewish fundamentalist movement descended on our Holy City. One friend was watching a settler demonstration in the Old City where a symbolic coffin with a Palestinian flag was set aflame. Unfortunately for them, the flame was quickly doused as the skies opened up and poured down on them. Ever resourceful, the demonstrators proceeded to rip the flag apart and stomp on the "coffin". As she was relating what had occurred, I couldn't help but think that there was something very "Lord of the Flies" about this story.

I think it's important for people to know that the "crazy assed" element of this society does exist and that comment is well founded. Tragically, the other day a 35 year-old taxi driver from Beit Hanina was brutally murdered by their ilk. My co-worker came to show me an article about her childhood playmate who was murdered by two of these fundamentalists. They lured him away from Damascus Gate by getting in his taxi and then slit his throat. The victim was selected because he was an Arab, and that's all that mattered. I hope that justice will be served. The whole thing has left me sick to my stomach.

By the way, the article I link to is from the Jerusalem Post, a right wing Israeli paper (in my opinion). By the looks of the comments at the end of the article, I think that the ugliest segments of society must subscribe to this paper. Somehow, (according to the reader responses) the brutality of the crime is mitigated by the fact that Tayseer Karaki's dead body was draped with a Palestinian flag. As if his national identity somehow "proves" his own guilt for something. A human being died at the hands of hate-mongers. Period. Shame on anyone who thinks otherwise. The uncle said it best when he said: "Why is it that whenever a Jew murders an Arab they say he's crazy and deranged?" he asked. "But when an Arab murders a Jew, he's always convicted even of he really is insane." There shouldn't be a double-standard. A hate motivated, pre-meditated murder is wrong no matter who the victim is.

Man, sometimes I really hate all this hate.

In the Trenches Together

Some days I have a hard time appreciating the unique opportunity I've been given and I wonder "what the hell am I doing in this place?" Then I look around at all the fabulous people I have met and I remember how blessed I am. I am living in a remarkable oasis among people who are dedicating a period in their lives to help the Palestinian people in the best ways that they can. Some risk their own personal safety to be a continuous international presence at checkpoints. Others leave behind their families and jobs to volunteer their time and skills at the nearby Palestinian hospital. Still others work with youth and inspire them to express themselves creatively. Sadly, everyone's visa runs out at some point. As much as I love having met some amazing people, it really sucks to see them go. We just said goodbye to one of the good ones, and I have posted her goodbye speech. Someday when she's famous, you'll be able to say you heard of her first here! We'll miss you Margit!

Jerusalem: A City Divine

by Margit

So I came to work in Jerusalem, in the land of milk and honey.

I wanted to live in a holy place, and Mark was offering money.

I thought I could cut it, I thought I would stay,

But life got to be wearing day after day.

The land is divided, the citizens clash,

The streets reek of burning of garbage and trash.

In the summer it's too hot, in the winter too much rain.

The tourists clog the streets and the Zionists are insane.

The policemen are mean and their teargas is choking.

My nose fills with sand and the smell of men smoking.

The boys say rude things in the city forsaken,

The stores don't sell wine, beer, liquor, or bacon.

So why did I stay here and not up and quit?

Just throw in the towel, say 'Enough of this shit'?

Because here in this desert 'tween the heat and the hate

Is a little utopia behind a stone gate.

Where the women are strong and the men are good looking,

And the common room kitchen smells of Toshiko's cooking.

The gardens are lovely, the windows are clean,

And there's never a wait for the washing machine.

Now, you know, on this same mountain is a place almost as pretty

Where Jesus came to pray to escape the troubled city.

He and his pals were in a garden, and Jesus was under a tree,

So I'd say I'm kind of like Jesus. And Jesus is kind of like me.

'Cause I'm standing in a garden, and all my friends are near,

And some of them are dozing off 'cause they've drinken too much beer.

And in a short time I will leave you. And I'll be questioned by security.

And they'll torment and harass me for my political impurity.

But then God will lift me up into the highest heavens,

Or at least to cruising altitude in a 747.

But know that when I leave you, when I've departed from this hill,

That I'll be living in my father's house, racking up the telephone bill.

And so now, in these final hours, let me say to thee and thine:

Thank you for your love and care and for making this city divine.

This Might Be Why I'm Single. I'm a Dork.

Here is where the geek in me comes out. Is it possible to have an academic crush on someone? I am such a huge fan of MJ Rosenberg from Israel Policy Forum. I have sent him emails in response to some of his commentaries--once to thank him for his courage and rational analysis. In one commentary, he was describing the abuse that ordinary Palestinians endure under a military occupation but he also addressed the psychological manipulation soldiers endure at the hands of their own leadership.

Instead of making blanket accusations, Rosenberg often illuminates the causal mechanisms behind acts on both sides. In a world of "pick your tribe and shoot 'em up" politics, it is a relief to know that there are still people who refuse to take the bait. Agree with him or disagree with him (I do disagree sometimes, too), but you have to applaud the fact that there are people out there who want to stimulate dialogue and not just spew rhetoric. There are heroes and villains on both sides, but mostly there are good people who want a peaceful life without having to relinquish their dignity. So here's three cheers for MJ Rosenberg for reminding us that those people exist.

This is one article that I found interesting:
Washington, DC, May 11, 2007 Issue # 322

Why Jews Envy the Irish
Tuesday, May 9, 2007 was a great day for the Irish. It was not so great for Israelis and Palestinians.

On Tuesday, the conflict over Ireland, which began in the 12th century (and in which 3500 people have been killed since 1966), ended when ultra-hard-line Protestant leader Reverend Ian Paisley joined former senior IRA commander Martin McGuinness in a power-sharing Catholic-Protestant unity government.

In the words of the BBC, it was a "moment of such improbability that it sets a new benchmark against which the future will judge unlikely events still to come” – like the signing of a peace treaty between Israelis and Palestinians.

For a time, of course, it appeared that Israelis and Palestinians would end their conflict before Irish Catholics and Protestants. It was in 1993 that Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin and PLO leader Yasir Arafat signed the Oslo agreement on the White House lawn. But Rabin was assassinated in 1995 and, after that tragedy, neither side fully observed the agreement although it did, nevertheless, succeed in dramatically reducing the violence – which skyrocketed after Oslo collapsed in the fall of 2000.

The Irish equivalent of Oslo was the Good Friday agreement of 1998 which laid the groundwork for the power-sharing arrangement that was implemented on Tuesday.

Like Oslo, the Good Friday agreement hit snag after snag, with both sides caught violating its terms (just two months after Good Friday, 29 people were killed and 200 injured in an attack by an IRA splinter group in the city of Omagh, Northern Ireland designed to scuttle the peace process). But none of the major players on either side was assassinated and each setback was followed by intensive efforts to resuscitate the agreement.

Another difference worth noting is that while Oslo was signed by moderates in the Israeli and Palestinian camps, Tuesday’s Irish peacemakers were hard-liners, known for their intense animosity toward the other side.

Protestant Paisley had famously said, “If an IRA man comes to a Protestant home and my men are there they will kill that IRA man. Yes sir.” Catholic McGuinness once said, “I am prepared to go to jail. I would rather die than disrupt or destroy my code of honor to the IRA.”

This was not so much the center embracing the center as the extremes embracing the extremes (not embracing, actually, but agreeing to live in peace). On Tuesday, it was Paisley who said, “A time to love and a time to hate. A time of war and a time of peace. From the depths of my heart I believe Northern Ireland has come to a time of peace,” while McGuinness said, “To Ian Paisley, I want to wish you all the best as we step forward toward the greatest yet most exciting challenge of our lives.”

The gaps that divided Irish Catholics and Protestants until Tuesday were every bit as wide as those dividing Israelis and Palestinians. Like Israelis and Palestinians, the two sides were fighting over one piece of land (although the Northern Irish could not simply divide it between them as Israelis and Palestinians can and will). The religious animosity was as intense as that between Jews and Muslims. And the 800 year old Irish conflict was some 740 years more ancient than the six decades old Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

So why did the Good Friday Agreement succeed while Oslo collapsed?

The most significant reason is the perseverance of some critical outsiders. The governments of Prime Minister Bertie Ahearn of the Irish Republic and Tony Blair of the United Kingdom made securing peace in Northern Ireland a top priority. Both leaders intervened strenuously every time there was a set-back. Blair enlisted President Clinton to help and Clinton appointed former Senate Majority Leader, George Mitchell, as his Special Envoy to Northern Ireland. Mitchell played a critical role in keeping the process alive at its darkest moments. Additionally, leading Irish-American politicians like Sen. Edward Kennedy weighed in to keep the two sides talking.

There are additional reasons for the success of the Good Friday agreement and yesterday I asked an expert what they were. I called John J. Cullinane, a Boston based computer entrepreneur (the company he founded became the first publicly traded software company) and philanthropist. Cullinane, an Irish Catholic, has been involved in the Northern Ireland peace process from the beginning; his particular emphasis is job creation which he sees as essential to conflict resolution in economically hard hit areas.

I asked Cullinane what those of us active in advancing the Israeli-Palestinian peace process can learn from the Irish experience. His response came in a ten-point e-mail a few minutes later.

1. Getting any group of people to give up any power, whatsoever, is extraordinarily difficult, virtually impossible.

2. Doing so requires the full time effort and influence of world political leaders, other stakeholders, diasporas etc., using every possible opportunity, because the antagonists can't, or won't, do it themselves.

3. Governments can only do so much such as negotiate cease fires, arrange meetings, and organize conferences, so they need good ideas from the private sector that they can support.

4. Business leaders in the area must get involved and use their influence to promote peace and not leave things to the extremists from both sides of the conflict. G7, a group of seven business organizations which was formed in Northern Ireland to do exactly this, is a perfect example.

5. The diasporas of both sides of the conflict have to help promote peace and economic development in a coordinated fashion. Communicating the sense that both diasporas are working together is critical. The Friends of Belfast is a good example.

6. Only the private sector can create the all-important peace dividend of jobs and economic development.

7. Even the prospect of peace can set in motion a great economic revival in a depressed area.

8. The sooner most people feel that they are better off, the easier it will be for the politicians to negotiate an agreement. It’s remarkable how quickly political leaders can agree once it suits them to do so.

9 . There will always be those who will try to disrupt any progress towards peace with violent acts, or question the motives of the other side, but those promoting peace can't let these acts, or views, deter them.

10. If the conflict can be resolved in Northern Ireland, every conflict is resolvable if the respective leaders want to, or are helped to do so. This obviously includes the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

Cullinane's points make sense. However, there is one critical difference between the two conflicts. In the case of Northern Ireland, once the decision to pursue peace was made, the constituency for continued conflict started disappearing not only in Ireland but in the diaspora as well. Irish Americans wanted President Clinton to put his weight behind the peace process. They applauded Ted Kennedy, Pat Moynihan and other Irish-American politicians for helping end the Irish “troubles.” Those Irish-American groups that thrived on the conflict either changed course or shriveled away.

That never happened after Oslo. The mainstream pro-Israel community here was ambivalent about Oslo right from the start. Almost immediately groups sprang up to "monitor" the Oslo process and point to its flaws. Pro-Israel speakers and spokespeople were able to bring crowds to their feet by spouting the tired old pre-Oslo rhetoric.

And, contrary to the Irish-American support for politicians who backed the peace process, pro-Israel groups here deem the most extreme and virulent Palestinian-bashers as “staunch friends of Israel” rather than as people who contribute to Israel’s problems. Many politicians (although in ever diminishing numbers) believe that the best way to be pro-Israel is to be anti-Palestinian and anti-peace.

Fortunately the situation is changing, even though powerful institutions continue their fight to preserve the status quo. But their message is growing stale and fewer politicians are paying attention. And even those who are will tell you privately that they are eager to pursue peaceful alternatives but are constrained by campaign considerations.

That is why we have a long way to go before we can celebrate the kind of event the Irish did on Tuesday. And it is also why that is why a great day for the Irish was just another ordinary day for Israelis and Palestinians. Ordinary, and bleak.

Yesterday a pregnant Palestinian woman lost her six month old baby when a random shot fired by Israeli soldiers struck her while she was lying in her bed in the Al Ein refugee camp in Nablus. And a six-year-old Israeli boy was badly injured when he jumped from the window of his home after going into shock due to one of three Kassam rockets that landed in Sderot.

The beat goes on.

But here is some good news. According to the Forward, "The Center for American Progress is set to launch the Middle East Bulletin , which will be arriving in subscribers’ inboxes beginning next week. It aims to take on Daily Alert, published by the Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Organizations and prepared by a right-wing think tank in Israel." The Center is one of the most influential think tanks in Washington and its new bulletin will surely have a positive impact. You can get a free subscription here .

MJ Rosenberg is the Director of Israel Policy Forum's Washington Policy Center. If you have colleagues or friends who would appreciate receiving this weekly letter, or you would like to unsubscribe, send an e-mail to: ipfdc@ipforumdc.org
Copyright 2007 Israel Policy Forum. All Rights Reserved.
National Office: 165 East 56th Street, 2nd Floor, New York, NY 10022 Tel: 212.245.4227 Fax: 212.245.0517 ipf@ipforum.org Washington Office: 122 C Street NW, Suite 820, Washington, DC 20001 Tel: 202.347.3811 Fax: 202.347.6130 ipfdc@ipforumdc.org Israel Office: 43 Emek Refaim Street, Suite 10, Jerusalem Israel 93141 Tel: 972.2.561.7258 Fax: 972.2.561.7437


I think that one point that needs to be emphasized is that not only is it necessary to have the "perseverance of some critical outsiders", but these outsiders must be single-minded in their focus: resolve the issues that are crucial for both sides. This conflict does not need outsiders with agendas biased to one particular group. Regardless of political or religious allegiance, outsiders must be single-minded in their pressure: removal of illegal settlements and outposts, removal of a wall that appropriated Palestinian lands and separates Palestinians from their communities in order to "protect" illegal settlements, demand for the immediate halt of violence from both sides--whether perpetrated in or out of uniform or under the guise of promoting "security", removal of barriers to movement within Palestinian communities, acknowledgement that economic empowerment will not succeed under a military occupation that by its very existence stifles entrepreneurship.

I often hear remarks about how Palestinians can improve their situation in spite of the Israeli occupation. Usually, these comments aren't based on the reality on the ground, but on "economic theory" Cliff Notes. I should know, I was one of those people. I wrote my college application essay on the importance of economic growth in the Palestinian/Israeli conflict--but I missed some important variables. Yes, there is no doubt that people are less likely to take up arms in they have food on the table, a roof over their heads, a good school for their children, etc...I think that it is safe to say that most Palestinians are aware of that too. So, the question then is "Why haven't they been able to build a viable economy in which peaceful coexistence can thrive?" What barriers are there to production and market access? What resources are necessary for a factory to be built? What laws are in place to facilitate or restrict the development of industry? What resources are necessary for the shipment of goods?

No one is acknowledging the flip side of the coin. Most would-be entrepreneurs and industrialists are in a cage, guarded by lions. The outside world keeps asking: "Why don't you just make it a nicer cage?"

Point #5 needs further elaboration. I have been discussing the lobbying culture in the U.S. quite a bit lately. It is definitely a topic that requires a post of its own, but I'd love to learn more about a coordinated grassroots Palestinian Diaspora movement in the U.S. The pro-Israel lobby and coordinated Jewish Diaspora was not a spontaneous collective. It is the product of years of strategic planning and activity. Like any successful social movement, the Jewish lobby is the result of strong formal and informal network ties, strong leadership that can strategically coordinate direct action campaigns and stimulate political pressure, a long history of building donor relationships and a constructed identity that links followers to the survival of the State of Israel. Is there an emerging lobbying rival in the Palestinian Diaspora community? I only know about the Arab American Institute and the Arab American Anti-Discrimination Committee. If anyone knows of more, please drop a line.

Sorry Guys. This Souvenir from the Holy Land is just for me.

When I thought about what I might like to pick up while I’m here, I was thinking more along the lines of Hebron glass, or a set of beautiful hand-painted dishes made by students at the Atfaluna Society for Deaf Children, or even some traditional embroidery to support the women’s NGOs and associations that I admire so much.

Here were a few things that I didn’t plan on acquiring: Lyme Disease, the Rose of Jericho parasite, discoid eczema or ring worm. Yet, lo and behold! My once elegant left knee is now plagued with a spiral rash that is an identifying marker of all four scourges.

I feel relatively confident that I can 86 the Lyme Disease scenario. The Middle East is not an afflicted region. Plus, I don’t have any of the more obvious symptoms. But yes, I’m going to mention it to the doctor anyway. So, do not harp on me.

I had fairly well convinced myself that it was ringworm. Plus, one of my housemates is an intensive care nurse, and he seemed to think that was the culprit. By the way, ringworm is not a worm. It is a fungus that spirals out in a rash, hence the name. One of the most common ways that ringworm is transmitted here is through contact with infected cats. I don’t want to call out our garden kitten, Haitham, as the carrier, but her usual perch is along the length of my thigh and she tends to jam her claws into my knee if she gets startled. So, she will remain our most likely suspect. (BTW, I know Haitham is a boy’s name, but we didn’t realize that he was a she until a special night when the neighborhood tomcats arrived. Clearly the moon hit their eyes like a big pizza pie...Mystery solved.)

As of tonight, my ringworm diagnosis is now less definitive. I was discouraging one of my classmates from demonstrating too much “cat love” with one of our Arabic class strays, when my teacher caught sight of my blight. He said, “Oh boy. That looks like ‘Rose of Jericho’. You better get to a doctor.” The last four hours of Google surfing has yielded WAY more than I ever wanted to know about leishmaniasis, A.K.A; Rose of Jericho. Apparently, the sandfly is one bad ass mudder trucker. So, if I got bit than I’m hosting some critters in my knee. After looking at way too many pictures and reading journal articles about this affliction, I am 85% certain that it isn’t the case. But no doubt it will be one of the first things I ask my doctor.

One of my classmates noticed my burgeoning hypochondriatic melt-down and promptly informed me that is probably just discoid eczema. Awesome. That helped to put my mind at ease. Now instead of having something that is (relatively) quickly curable—albeit soooo gross-- I might be plagued by recurring flare-ups of this nonsense. But then again, it’s not itchy. Isn’t eczema supposed to itch? Then again-again, I put an apple cider vinegar compress on as soon as I saw it, so it dried up all the little pimples. Ahhhhh, Apple Cider Vinegar, is there nothing that you can’t do?

So that’s that. No doubt, I am now the grossest person you know. I hope you at least think I’m beautiful on the inside. And if you don’t, please...now is not the time to tell me. I’m still not over the really bad haircut I got a while back. I can’t take one more blow to my vanity.

My dog ate it...I lost track of time...My computer is on the fritz...I fell down a well

http://www.sorryeverybody.com

I was looking for a nice "Sorry" image to apologize for not posting in a long time, and I came across this website. I realize that I'm a little behind on the times, but I thought it was a cool project. According to the website, 26,000 people responded after the 2004 election. Reading the apologies really pulls you right back to that period in time. Politics are so ugly.

One of the things that came out of the photo project was the Civil Tongue Foundation. The idea was to "promote polite, reasonable and content-based dialogue between the multitudes of American political viewpoints." You can imagine my enthusiam and child-like gullibilty that a grassroots movement to end Jerry Springer-esque mud-slinging, trash-talking and issue-spinning exists. A few Google searches later, I came to realize that the Foundation didn't have the legs for a long haul. Couldn't find anything on it. Too bad, because if the next election is decided on smoke screen issues like gay marriage, faith & family values, I might just decide to stay in the Middle East where people are rational.

I'll write more about what's what here later on...

I'm Not the Only Lucky One...

...you too can study Arabic in Palestine! I have had people ask me what the options are for studying Arabic here, so let me lay it on you.

First, I have to give props to my teacher Issa. My language classes are through the Kenyon Institute which is a division of The Council for British Research in the Levant. Classes have just ended for this session but begin again on April 30th - June 28th. After that, he then starts classes back up in September. The class is mostly colloquial and is held two days a week. It is probably one of the better deals around at 1,200 NIS. (Approximately, $325) You can reach Issa directly at issa.faltas@gmail.com or contact the Kenyon Institute at kenyon@cbrl.org.uk

I met two cool people in Ramallah last week at an Advocacy Fair sponsored by AIDA and PNGO. The gave me info about their summer language programs that include homestays. The first was The Palestine Summer Encounter through The Middle East Fellowship. http://www.middleeastfellowship.org/pse2007

The second was Siraj Center for Holy Land Studies. http://www.sirajcenter.org/courses.htm
Both are definitely worth checking out. If you plan on just doing a short course, I would suggest going with a homestay.

There are also options through
Birzeit University http://home.birzeit.edu/pas/
Al-Quds University http://www.alquds.edu/qiss/index.php?page=about

I would suggest that anyone coming to study Arabic at a Palestinian institution should enter Israel on a tourist visa and keep their yap shut about their linguist aspirations. No need to risk getting turned back at Ben Gurion Airport--and people do get turned back.

If you're the adventurous type, I would even recommend not signing up for any course until you've arrive. There are quite a few options available that you won't find through an internet search. (That's how I found the Kenyon Institute)

As I hear of more, I'll post.

Gaza Imploding

I love to hear Palestinians tell stories of how Gaza used to be, because it reminds me that mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, uncles, aunts, grandmothers and grandfathers live there--not just the armed militants that make the news. All anyone needs to do is to reach for their dusty copy of "Lord of the Flies" and they'll be able to understand why Gazan society is imploding. The simplistic analysis offered by armchair Middle East pundits states that "Gaza minus Settlers equals Gaza's opportunity for peace and prosperity". When Gazan tribal politics erupt, these same dumbdits state that this just "proves" their point that Palestinians are incapable of helping themselves. This somehow puts the Israeli Occupation in a positive light--the Israelis must be doing Palestinians a favor by sticking around because clearly Palestinians are predisposed to self-destructive behavior.

I completely agree that the violence among factions is absolutely sinful. The truth is that political and economic greed drives militants to engage in violence against fellow Palestinians. The power struggle includes those who pick up the banner of Islam to legitimize their claim to power. It becomes a pissing contest to see who is the real Palestinian/Muslim/Freedom Fighter. Then new groups like Army of Islam throw their kaffiyeh into the ring, and they completely up the ante. In turn, this banner provides cover for militants who attack women in the name of "honor". But let me be clear, there is no honor in attacking the most vulnerable members of society. Furthermore, the attack on "honor" is often just a means for political rivals to damage the reputation of the other. If the women of one party are deemed "dishonorable" than the entire party is tainted. It is the same logic that war criminals used when they authorized rape as a means of perpetrating genocide.

But the reality of Gaza is that it takes more than just the removal of a couple thousand settlers to empower Gazans to build a viable Palestinian state. A professor once told me that if someone ever presents a bivariate analysis of an issue as "absolute proof" of their hypothesis, you know they are either conning you or they're too dumb to know anything about anything.

Gaza is often referred to as the largest prison in the world simply because the movement of approximately one and a half million Gazans is completely restricted by land, air and sea. It is also often noted as the most densely populated place on earth. The economy is in a perpetual strangle hold due to restrictions on industry that can only flourish through the export of goods beyond the Strip. If you can't ship your goods by land, and can't ship your goods by sea, and you can't ship your goods by air, and NO ONE around you has any money because unemployment is estimated to be around 80%, what is the point of producing goods?

How are people supposed to embrace democratization and enforce the rule of law when they are trying desperately to find a way to feed their family? Healthy legal and social institutions don't just spontaneously emerge in a power vacuum. In times of severe economic crisis, an organic socialist model in which all people benevolently care for one another does not automatically emerge (although, against great odds, Palestinian civil society has demonstrated remarkable skill in that area) I don't mean to get all Thomas Hobbes on you, but when times are hard, people take care of their own. It is human nature to hunker down into a tribal mentality. As a result of years of economic and political misery, good people are getting caught in the crosshairs of factional violence that erupts as these "tribes" scrambled to gain control of scarce resources.

Settlers or no settlers, when people are starving they become desperate. These are desperate times in Gaza.

Why Do We Hurt Each Other with Our Words?

A couple of years ago I took a class called “Voices of Modern Jewish Literature”. For anyone who would like to understand more about the motivations of Israelis, American Jews and Zionist support networks in relation to security, it would serve you to read some of the remarkable works of fiction that came out of the Diaspora community. One of my favorite books is an anthology titled “Lost Tribe: Jewish Fiction from the Edge”. I tried to get rid of most of my possessions before moving here and leaving that particular book behind almost broke my heart. I hate the idea that someone, who doesn’t appreciate this kind of literature the way I do, might be using it as a coaster for their morning coffee. “Dreaming the Actual” is another fantastic anthology by female Israeli writers.

Below is a list of short stories that I absolutely loved. I had to read through my old journal entries to find the titles, but it is funny how over the years I have “memories” of these different stories. Every once in awhile I think about the little boy in “The Story of My Dovecot” or I remember the haunting feeling I had when I read “The Shawl”. The only problem is that I forgot to write from where the short stories came. I’m sure if you Google the titles or authors you’ll be able to find the name of the collection. One anthology is probably “The Cambridge Companion to Jewish American Literature”.

“A Dream of Sleep” by Steve Almond
“How to Make It to the Promised Land” by Ellen Umansky
“A Room on the Roof” forget the author—about Israeli & Palestinian relations through the lens of both gender and ethnic identity.
“Hayuta’s Engagement Party”
“Legacy of Raizel Kaidish: A Story” by Rebecca Goldstein
“The Shawl” by Cynthia Ozick
“The Story of My Dovecot” by Isaac Babel
“The Spinoza of Market Street” by Issac Singer
“Angel Levine” and “The Magic Barrel” by Bernard Malamud
“A Yom Kippur Scandal” by Sholem Aleichem

I have been thinking about this particular literature class lately because I realize now that my professor wasn’t the xenophobe I had thought him to be. Uh, that’s not completely true. He probably is. He used to address the Christian minority in the class by saying, “Gentiles, are you familiar with blah, blah, blah...?” On the face of it, it doesn’t seem to be that offensive, but if you plug any other religion or ethnic group into that example, you’d have to agree it is a little peculiar to make such a distinction. For example, if there is a minority of Caucasians in an African American literature class, it would be highly irregular for the professor to say “Okay White People, are you familiar with the expression blah, blah, blah...?”

I now have to admit that his paranoia wasn’t completely without merit. My professor was very open about his belief that as a Jew, he was a walking target. The Passion of Christ had hit the theatres and he believed that Mel Gibson was heralding a new era of anti-Semitism. Although he was boycotting the film (so he had no first hand knowledge), he was certain that it was a deliberate provocation against the Jewish people. At one point when discussing the reason why most Jews view Israel as a lifeboat in a tumultuous, hostile sea, he exclaimed, “All it takes is for one severe financial crisis to hit this country and you might as well spark up the ovens-- ‘cause we’ll be the first to go.” I asked him, “Do you really believe another Holocaust is likely in this day and age—and here in America?” He replied that it wasn’t a question of “if” but “when”. At the time I thought what a kook.

I think I owe my professor an apology. Since I have been here, I am chilled to say that anti-Semitism is alive and well. I am not referring to the heated debates that arise from the political situation between Israel and the Arab World. I absolutely deplore those people who claim that critics of either Israeli policies or AIPAC are anti-Semites. Gagging free thinking and human rights advocacy by crying the wolf of anti-Semitism is a disgrace. It is as unethical as accusing a man of pedophilia in order to thwart his political ambitions. That kind of ad hominem accusation causes irreparable harm to one’s character and, despite conclusive proof of innocence, it is impossible to ever fully erase the mark of Cain. Furthermore, the indiscriminate use of the word desensitizes people to the real meaning.

For me, the specter of anti-Semitism has arisen in the company of some European and Australian expats. The conversation usually begins by discussing something seemingly innocuous. One French woman I know was discussing the violation of Muslim civil rights in her own country. She was talking about how there are horrible examples of racism against people of African descent in France. Then apropos of nothing she said “But the Jews have laws to protect their civil liberties! Why do Jews always get such special treatment! You can’t say anything derogatory about a Jew for fear of breaking the law...there is such a sense of entitlement!”

I just stared at her because I couldn’t figure out her logic. Did she think that Jews were given protection at the expense of Muslims? Here’s a crazy notion: instead of revoking the human rights of Jews, why not push for legislation that will protect the human rights of Muslims, too? Or better yet, maybe ALL humans, regardless of religion or national origin, should have the right to live and work in a safe, prosperous society? I would think that those two things are mutually exclusive, no? She is a citizen of France, so I would think that if Muslim rights were an issue of utmost importance to her and her well heeled Parisian friends, collectively they could rock enough political boats to bring about real change. She had no response. Probably because she doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the right of African Muslims in France--she needed a springboard for her anti-Jew rant and that issue served her well.

On a side bar, this same woman can’t seem to stop telling me how absolutely cretinous Americans are. I am the only American in my Arabic class and I generally ignore generalizations about my fellow compatriots—especially when they come from people who have never even been to my fair land. (I include in that classification those foreigners who lack the imagination to ever venture beyond New York City.) The other day though, I just snapped. She was yapping on about how fat Americans are--despite the fact that she is considerably pudgier than me. She also made this comment shortly after rejecting an invitation to join me in doing yoga a couple of times a week after class. (We do need to start preparations for bikini season, afterall.)

This woman was spouting on about how Americans only eat McDonalds and I just cut her off. I said “That is sooooo unoriginal and every time I hear a European say that, I just want to tell them how stupid it sounds...There are 300 million people in America, are you seriously going to tell me that you have absolute knowledge about the dietary habits of such an extremely large, ethnically & geographically diverse population?” At that point, the other women chimed in that they also had had enough. Stereotypes are hurtful and pointless. I think they were just embarrassed that this woman was so oblivious. Even if she really believed what she was saying, where were her manners? Where does someone get the idea that they can blabber on authoritatively about a country they’ve never even been to? Truth be told, I will never suffer carpal tunnel due to excessive flag waving, but the Yankee Doodle in me comes out when I encounter people who are hungry for an all-American knuckle sandwich. If you don’t have an intelligent, well-formulated criticism, shut your yap. Plus, everyone was really getting along before her rant; nationality was completely irrelevant to everyone but the frog. (yes, I know that was mean. Maybe my Big Mac withdrawal is making me cranky.)

Another topic that rings like nails down a chalk board for me is that of the “Jewish Mafia” in the United States. There is one Australian character here who I try desperately to avoid—often to no avail. One of his favorite topics to discuss AT me is the Jewish Mafia Conspiracy in the United States. It is so “Elders of Zion” I just want to stab myself in the eye so I can feel something less painful than listening to his vitriolic account of everything that is wrong with my country. I just stare blankly ahead and hope that if I don’t move he will believe that he has successfully brainwashed me into believing his verbal diarrhea. “Yes...Master...Paul Wolfowitz is an Elder...not just an incompetent twat who guided my country into a senseless war without any nuanced understanding of the Middle East...ummmmm....Master...we are all puppets of the Jews.”

I think on one level I am bothered just because he begins from the assumption that 1) I have no understanding of how power politics actually work within the U.S. lobbying culture. He thinks that I need tender guidance so he can reveal to me the dark underbelly of the U.S. system...DUN, DUN, DUUUUUUUUUN: AIPAC! I feel like saying, “Listen Assface, what exactly do you think my background is? I know more about the topic than some half bake like yourself, so why don’t you go sit down, crack open another Fosters and leave the conspiracy theorizing to those clever enough to put together a kitschy weblog or a syndicated column in The Guardian”.

And 2) it’s not just me he is underestimating. He is assuming that my entire country has been duped. According to this guy, the secret of AIPAC is so well concealed that only the highest echelons of the U.S. government are privy to its AWESOME power. I’m like, “Dude, we have every conceivable ethnic mafia and special interest group in the U.S.: Italian, Irish, Russian mafias...MS-13 are running roughshod from Washington, DC to El Salvador...There are Political Action Committees (PACs) for gun control, anti-gun control, tobacco, anti-smoking, oil, steel, plastics, pro-life, pro-choice, pharmaceuticals, communications, environmental conservation, insecticides, coal mining, the Catholic Church, the MILITARY INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX... If you want to pull the strings in America, you need three things: organizational strategy, a unifying issue and moohla. And if you have the first two, the third will likely follow. It’s not a secret formula. The steam behind AIPAC is that so many boogeyman stories have been told that it is hard to tell myth from reality. The fact is they have brilliant strategists. The best we can do, if we don’t like AIPAC’s influence in the U.S., is to learn from their strategy and mimic it.

Anyway, if he wants to talk about AWESOME lobbying power, he should check out AARP! Now that is a scary bunch of well organized mo-fo’s. Senior citizens run the most powerful lobby my country has ever known. So, if you want to simplify things, find a way to coordinate the senior citizen agenda with the rights of Palestinians. Then just sit back and watch the blue hair fly.

And then Hell froze over...

So, last weekend I was frolicking about in a mineral mud pit at the Dead Sea in 80 degree weather and now it’s sleeting and snowing outside. My wussy response to the change in weather has resigned me to the fact that I’m no longer entitled to call myself a New Englander. I decided to skip school because I didn’t trust my feet to make it down the 45 degree angle on which every road in Jerusalem is built. I’m just not equipped for the terrain anymore...I don’t even have a scarf with me...My shoes have lost their tread from all of the walking I do here. I could fall!...Stop judging me. I just didn't feel like going.

Anywho, I’ve just been reminded that I haven’t posted in a long time. My internet connection is pretty erratic, so I have been using the few moments of consistent connection judiciously. You know, for important things like quality celeb gossip surfing and downloading episodes of "The Office" from iTunes. So here is a recap of my life recently:

I cut class on Thursday so I could go get a MUCH needed hair cut. 170 Shekels later I realized that I would have been better off if I just snipped my split ends with toenail clippers and called it a day. I walked out looking like I was wearing a wig from the “Pat Benatar and Chrissie Hynde Rock the 80s” Collection. This is not my first time trying to negotiate a haircut in a foreign language and usually I am able to convey what I want. (Case in point: Quito Ecuador, November 1998. Hair "salon" was actually someone's garage. Hair was washed with dish detergent and request was conducted completely in Spanish. End result was a flawless angled bob. It would be worth the airfare to go back for regular trims.) If I can't give precise instructions, at least I am able to convey that I am absolutely terrified that they are going to chop it to bits, so most stylists are pretty gentle with me. My dentist proceeds with the same kind of caution.

In my naiveté, I really thought that it would be a safe bet to go to a salon that was a little more expensive. The hairstylist seemed so passionate and meticulous. Seeing my reluctance, he assured me that he loves long hair. What he didn’t mention was that it was long hair of the “business in the front and party in the back” variety. The end result was something that my four year old niece could have pulled off with her safety scissors and a well positioned upside down bowl on my head. After all of the years that I have been trying to grow my hair out long, you couldn’t possibly understand my pain... I'm thisclose to chopping it Winona Ryder short and going back to blonde.

This weekend was pretty mellow. I went out Friday night to see what I thought was going to be Flamenco dancing. It wasn’t—just a quartet playing flamenco music. By the end of the performance everyone was asking each other "The email said "dancing", right?" About halfway through, I realized two things: 1) I have never actually heard flamenco music. I think I went because I had images in my head of a woman in red frilly tiered dresses stomping her feet and clicking her castinettes. And when I say “a woman in red frilly dresses”, I mean “Bugs Bunny dressed as a woman in a red frilly dress trying to outsmart Elmer Fudd”. Sadly, I think that is the extent of my Iberian cultural fluency.

And 2) I don’t know what avant garde means. I really enjoyed their traditional pieces, but every original composition was introduced as being “avant garde”. I suspect it means music without a consistent beat, melody or theme. Not once did the music inspire my foot to tap or make me sway to the beat. We left and went to Jerusalem Hotel to hear some fabulous live Arabic music, and that’s where the foot tapping and swaying began in earnest. My friend and I were coaxed out of our chairs to dance with the local crowd, and I did my best to recall the moves from my “Hip Drop-Hip Hop Belly Dance Fitness for Weight Loss” DVD. True to the spirit of “Arab Hospitality” everyone was very gracious and no one laughed too loudly.

The next day the Mount of Olives community was hit by tragedy. A taxi driver was arrested by Israeli soldiers on Salahedin Street and died in their custody. There have been conflicting stories about what had happened, but the version I heard most frequently was that he was arrested for having a Palestinian woman, who was in Jerusalem without authorization, in his sherut taxi. The Israelis claimed that he had a heart attack, but the man’s family insists that he had been beaten to death. I have not heard whether or not his body had been released for an independent investigation, but no one believes that it was just a heart attack. Maybe if he was severely obese, a heavy smoker with a history of heart problems and a cocaine addiction then, sure... a 35 year old man can have a heart attack. The death of an innocent man who was in the wrong place at the wrong time is just the kind of provocation that brings people out into the streets.

Saturday night we were leaving the compound to go to see “The Lives of Others”. A mob of men were blocking the gate and we were unsure if we were going to be able to leave. They eventually let us through and you could see quite a bit of commotion at the bottom of the hill. One of the men said that we should go to the right because it was unsafe for us to drive down toward the protests. There is something surreal about driving into West Jerusalem, to do something as banal as going to a movie, when there is unrest on the East side. I think with the exception of the few pockets that are obsessed with security, most Israelis are completely oblivious to what is going on a mile or two away.

For a few days after the taxi driver was killed, Israeli military jeeps were parked on the corner down from our compound. The first day they were restricting traffic from entering the Mount of Olives, but on the following days, I think they were just trying to make their presence known. Whenever I see the soldiers camped out at an intersection that leads to Mount of Olives or Wadi Joz, the same image always appears in my mind. The soldiers serve as the lid on a boiling pot. If they keep the neighborhoods contained then no one outside of them will get burned. In reality, it really is just a matter of time before that pot boils over. And when it does, I think the foremost response in West Jerusalem will be one of surprise.



Interestingly enough, “The Lives of Others” has been playing to sold out crowds here. I find it somewhat ironic. The film is about life in East Berlin from 1984 up to the reunification of the two Germanys. The movie revolves around an artistic community and their assumed subversive activities. But as the movie progresses, a Stasi agent emerges as the unlikely protagonist. By observing the lives of others, he is touched by their humanity and begins to realize that his devotion to the ideals of the state was at the expense of his own humanity. Previously he had viewed all civilians as potential enemies of the state, but a set of circumstances led the inspector to become involved in the most intimate details of a couple’s relationship. The more time he spent eavesdropping on their daily lives, the more he began to empathize with them.

What I found ironic is that the Palestinian community lives in a similar state of constant surveillance. Their society has an equal share of collaborators and intelligence gathering institutions designed to crush subversion. There are some checkpoint soldiers who have commented that they don’t blame the Palestinians for their response to the occupation. These soldiers witness the lives of thousands of human beings as they are herded through checkpoint turnstiles. I think that Israelis can only cope with this “security state” by either creating alternative realities that strip an entire population of individual human characteristics, trying to completely avoid witnessing the treatment of the Palestinian population or by abandoning their unwavering allegiance to the state apparatus.

I would highly recommend that others check out this film. You can check out info through this link: http://www.sonyclassics.com/thelivesofothers/