Looking Backward and Forward
This past week has been pretty intense for me. I don't normally write much about my thoughts and feelings in this somewhat public forum, but I've decided that something that has been so significant to me, personally, deserves to be shared with all of you as well. I apologize for the excessive length.
On Shabbat afternoon, July 30th, I went and visited an old friend of mine. We'd met when I was in ulpan for the first time, three years ago at Hebrew U. We'd stayed in touch through the years while she has settled in Israel, and we are currently neighbors in Jerusalem. Another reason that I went to her home to visit was that a mutual friend of ours was in town. She is visiting from Australia and neither of us had seen her in the intervening three years so it was exciting to get together and catch up on the past. As the conversation turned to the summer we had spent together an uncomfortable silence filled the room when remembered our last days together. On the last day of classes, July 31st, 2002 a bomb exploded in the cafeteria at Hebrew U. Nine people were killed and over 85 injured. Each of us knew people in both groups.
I'm not sure if my other friends from ulpan three years ago have been remembering those events this past week, but I certainly have and they colored both the activities I've been engaged in and my thoughts along the way these past few days.
Three years ago, the bomb exploded on the last day of classes. The day that was supposed to be filled with exams concluding the summer session was instead packed with tears and embraces. This year, the last day of classes passed by uneventfully and the following day I sat for my level exam. But this time it was different. As soon as I left the testing room I met with a friend who volunteers with the Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions. We hopped a bus from campus and within half an hour were walking the streets of Anata, a Palestinian village bordering East Jerusalem. I spent the afternoon in a world completely foreign to the Israel I was used to.
ICAHD has been helping the Hamdan family rebuild their home after it had been demolished for improper permits. They sponsored a summer work camp of international volunteers who have spent the past two weeks living and working in Anata, rebuilding their home from the rubble on which it lies. That afternoon was the second to last day of the work camp so most of the work had already been completed. With other volunteers we cleared construction debris from within the new house and prepared the floors for a final washing. We also cleared rubble from the surrounding land and began filling it in with soil to make a vegetable garden adjacent to the new home.
I felt that it was a fitting way to spend the day, seeing as I'd found myself increasingly nervous among Arabs as the anniversary of the bombing approached. It felt like the beginning of bringing things full circle. This poor family of seven, struggling daily to make ends meet, lives in poverty yet tries to make the most of each day and is at the same time engaged in the peace movement between Israelis and Palestinians. If they can be willing to work hand-in-hand with the "enemy" towards a common goal of peace, then so could I. I was beginning to fully understand, beyond a purely intellectual level, what it meant to work together, even in circumstances that might otherwise make me uncomfortable. If I couldn't, as a Jew, feel comfortable helping an Arab family rebuild their home, how could they ever be expected to feel comfortable working side-by-side with their Israeli neighbors? If we could show this one family and their curious on-looking neighbors that Jews are willing to help rebuild with Arabs, then perhaps we could prevent another disenfranchised Palestinian from confusing Jews with enemies, instead seeing human beings and not targets.
Friday evening, walking home from the Arab section of the Old City where I'd prayed the Jewish service that welcomes in Shabbat with some of my friends, I was surrounded by Arabic. I realized that, along with the majority of Jewish Israelis, I have no way of communicating with my Arabic-speaking neighbors. At that moment I decided, no matter how hard languages are for me, I have no choice but begin to learn the very beginnings of spoken Arabic. I began learning with a book and some friends on Sunday.
Sunday. Sunday was July 31st, 2005 - exactly three years after a bomb ripped apart the cafeteria at Hebrew U. I knew I wanted to do something to mark the occasion, but I didn't have any ideas what to do other than attending the memorial ceremony held at the university. Luckily, a much better option soon became apparent. A friend of a friend is the director of an organization called BUSTAN which is a partnership of Jews and Arabs promoting social and environmental justice and the fair allocation of resources in Israel and Palestine. On Sunday morning we drove down to the unrecognized village of Abu Tlul in the Northern Negev to visit a public Bedouin school, serving the Israeli Bedouin children who live in the surrounding unrecognized villages southeast of Be'er Sheva. The field workers met with the school principal and a number of the teachers regarding their BUSTAN project, a two and a half acre learning site dedicated to the education of desert agriculture and Bedouin heritage. Other than a minor suggestion, I didn't really participate in the meeting. However, I was able translate everything (the meeting was conducted in Hebrew) for my friend who I had gone down with. She had been teaching me some Arabic that morning, and later in the afternoon, so it was great to be able to help her understand the discussion between BUSTAN and the Abu Tlul school.
The meeting also gave me hope for the future. It demonstrated how well and seemingly naturally Jews and Arabs can work together on a common project despite mounting obstacles. From joking around to haggling over dollars on the projected budget, the brief meeting stretched on for over four hours while struggling to establish all the intricate details of their admirable goal. The park that the students, parents, and local community members are creating to demonstrate sustainable agriculture as well as highlighting traditional Bedouin culture will be an asset to those who help create it as well as the 1600 students it plans on serving. The Southern half of Israel is made up of desert and projects like this one which serve to teach the population how the land can be effectively used may be the key to a sustainable future in the desert region of Israel. Watching Jews and Arabs work together on planning this project was the perfect end to my contemplative week.
Although I started out this week still harboring a grudge against whoever planted the bomb in our cafeteria three years ago, I have come, through my various encounters, to have some hope for the future in this small region of the world. Don't get me wrong, peace still seems incredibly far off if not impossible, but I have begun to witness all the amazing coexistence work that people on both sides are striving towards to make a livable future for the next generations.
That and my Arabic vocabulary has already grown tenfold.
Interesting and relevant links:
Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions - http://www.icahd.org/eng/
ICAHD Building Camp 2005 - http://www.icahd.org/eng/news.asp?menu=5&submenu=1
BUSTAN - http://www.bustan.org/
The Abu Tlul Learning Site - http://www.bustan.org/projectbustan/
The Hebrew University Bombing - http://www.mfa.gov.il/MFA/MFAArchive/2000_2009/2002/7/Terrorist%20bombing%20at%20Hebrew%20University%20cafeteria%20-
On Shabbat afternoon, July 30th, I went and visited an old friend of mine. We'd met when I was in ulpan for the first time, three years ago at Hebrew U. We'd stayed in touch through the years while she has settled in Israel, and we are currently neighbors in Jerusalem. Another reason that I went to her home to visit was that a mutual friend of ours was in town. She is visiting from Australia and neither of us had seen her in the intervening three years so it was exciting to get together and catch up on the past. As the conversation turned to the summer we had spent together an uncomfortable silence filled the room when remembered our last days together. On the last day of classes, July 31st, 2002 a bomb exploded in the cafeteria at Hebrew U. Nine people were killed and over 85 injured. Each of us knew people in both groups.
I'm not sure if my other friends from ulpan three years ago have been remembering those events this past week, but I certainly have and they colored both the activities I've been engaged in and my thoughts along the way these past few days.
Three years ago, the bomb exploded on the last day of classes. The day that was supposed to be filled with exams concluding the summer session was instead packed with tears and embraces. This year, the last day of classes passed by uneventfully and the following day I sat for my level exam. But this time it was different. As soon as I left the testing room I met with a friend who volunteers with the Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions. We hopped a bus from campus and within half an hour were walking the streets of Anata, a Palestinian village bordering East Jerusalem. I spent the afternoon in a world completely foreign to the Israel I was used to.
ICAHD has been helping the Hamdan family rebuild their home after it had been demolished for improper permits. They sponsored a summer work camp of international volunteers who have spent the past two weeks living and working in Anata, rebuilding their home from the rubble on which it lies. That afternoon was the second to last day of the work camp so most of the work had already been completed. With other volunteers we cleared construction debris from within the new house and prepared the floors for a final washing. We also cleared rubble from the surrounding land and began filling it in with soil to make a vegetable garden adjacent to the new home.
I felt that it was a fitting way to spend the day, seeing as I'd found myself increasingly nervous among Arabs as the anniversary of the bombing approached. It felt like the beginning of bringing things full circle. This poor family of seven, struggling daily to make ends meet, lives in poverty yet tries to make the most of each day and is at the same time engaged in the peace movement between Israelis and Palestinians. If they can be willing to work hand-in-hand with the "enemy" towards a common goal of peace, then so could I. I was beginning to fully understand, beyond a purely intellectual level, what it meant to work together, even in circumstances that might otherwise make me uncomfortable. If I couldn't, as a Jew, feel comfortable helping an Arab family rebuild their home, how could they ever be expected to feel comfortable working side-by-side with their Israeli neighbors? If we could show this one family and their curious on-looking neighbors that Jews are willing to help rebuild with Arabs, then perhaps we could prevent another disenfranchised Palestinian from confusing Jews with enemies, instead seeing human beings and not targets.
Friday evening, walking home from the Arab section of the Old City where I'd prayed the Jewish service that welcomes in Shabbat with some of my friends, I was surrounded by Arabic. I realized that, along with the majority of Jewish Israelis, I have no way of communicating with my Arabic-speaking neighbors. At that moment I decided, no matter how hard languages are for me, I have no choice but begin to learn the very beginnings of spoken Arabic. I began learning with a book and some friends on Sunday.
Sunday. Sunday was July 31st, 2005 - exactly three years after a bomb ripped apart the cafeteria at Hebrew U. I knew I wanted to do something to mark the occasion, but I didn't have any ideas what to do other than attending the memorial ceremony held at the university. Luckily, a much better option soon became apparent. A friend of a friend is the director of an organization called BUSTAN which is a partnership of Jews and Arabs promoting social and environmental justice and the fair allocation of resources in Israel and Palestine. On Sunday morning we drove down to the unrecognized village of Abu Tlul in the Northern Negev to visit a public Bedouin school, serving the Israeli Bedouin children who live in the surrounding unrecognized villages southeast of Be'er Sheva. The field workers met with the school principal and a number of the teachers regarding their BUSTAN project, a two and a half acre learning site dedicated to the education of desert agriculture and Bedouin heritage. Other than a minor suggestion, I didn't really participate in the meeting. However, I was able translate everything (the meeting was conducted in Hebrew) for my friend who I had gone down with. She had been teaching me some Arabic that morning, and later in the afternoon, so it was great to be able to help her understand the discussion between BUSTAN and the Abu Tlul school.
The meeting also gave me hope for the future. It demonstrated how well and seemingly naturally Jews and Arabs can work together on a common project despite mounting obstacles. From joking around to haggling over dollars on the projected budget, the brief meeting stretched on for over four hours while struggling to establish all the intricate details of their admirable goal. The park that the students, parents, and local community members are creating to demonstrate sustainable agriculture as well as highlighting traditional Bedouin culture will be an asset to those who help create it as well as the 1600 students it plans on serving. The Southern half of Israel is made up of desert and projects like this one which serve to teach the population how the land can be effectively used may be the key to a sustainable future in the desert region of Israel. Watching Jews and Arabs work together on planning this project was the perfect end to my contemplative week.
Although I started out this week still harboring a grudge against whoever planted the bomb in our cafeteria three years ago, I have come, through my various encounters, to have some hope for the future in this small region of the world. Don't get me wrong, peace still seems incredibly far off if not impossible, but I have begun to witness all the amazing coexistence work that people on both sides are striving towards to make a livable future for the next generations.
That and my Arabic vocabulary has already grown tenfold.
Interesting and relevant links:
Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions - http://www.icahd.org/eng/
ICAHD Building Camp 2005 - http://www.icahd.org/eng/news.asp?menu=5&submenu=1
BUSTAN - http://www.bustan.org/
The Abu Tlul Learning Site - http://www.bustan.org/projectbustan/
The Hebrew University Bombing - http://www.mfa.gov.il/MFA/MFAArchive/2000_2009/2002/7/Terrorist%20bombing%20at%20Hebrew%20University%20cafeteria%20-
posted by sarah @ 5:20 PM
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