Border Crossings

Walking in the circle

2011-09-02T11:49:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago, our delegation was traveling from Kenora to Grassy Narrows to attend the community annual Pow Wow. This was my first Pow Wow and, for me, one of the highlights of the trip. As a (temporary) conclusion for my blog, I want to remember and share the colors and the music of this community event.

In general terms, a Pow Wow is a gathering; however, it carries on and preserves many traditional elements of First Nations’ culture. Dancers and drummers are the essential part of the celebration; and the set-up of the dance arena follows strict rules.

"The dance arena, known as the arbor, is a large circular arena in the center of the designated location… The arbor is blessed prior to the powwow starting and is considered sacred ground during the entire celebration… The entries are on the four points of the compass, but usually dancers enter from the east entrance" (http://www.powwow-power.com/powwowhistory.html). The circular shape represents the circle of life, a central concept to First Nations’ spiritual beliefs. It was such a privilege to be part of this celebration and, above all, it was an amazing experience to be invited to walk with everyone else in the circle of life!

I left Grassy Narrows still walking in the circle -and adding "the" makes of course the whole difference-, taking with me sounds, lights, and emotions that I want to keep with me.

*Example of Men's traditional dancing at Grassy Narrows's Pow Wow: http:// www.youtube.com/watch?v=fDIUL0-imwE/
*Grass dancers at Grassy Narrows' Pow Wow: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-dPAL_ydQNc&feature=related/

Left with heavy memories

2011-08-31T13:07:00.000-07:00

"In 1928, a government official predicted Canada would end its 'Indian problem' within two generations. Church-run, government-funded residential schools for native children were supposed to prepare them for life in white society. But the aims of assimilation meant devastation for those who were subjected to physical, sexual and emotional abuse. Decades later, aboriginal people began to share their stories and demand acknowledgement of —and compensation for— their stolen childhoods" (picture & text from: http://archives.cbc.ca/society/education/topics/692/).

Originally started in the 19th century, Canada’s residential schools system reached its peak in the early 1930s; the last school of its kind closed its doors in 1996. The principle of the system was very simple: assimilation of Aboriginal kids to white culture and erasure of indigenous heritage. The means to implement such goals are pretty common, among others: sequestration of children and interdiction to speak native languages. Canadian society has taken some steps in order to deal with this past, but Aboriginal families are of course suffering from it in ways that are difficult to fully measure. On June 2, 2008, The Indian Residential Schools Truth and Reconciliation Commission started its work; it is still active and working on finding ways to heal (http://www.trc.ca/).

Every single person we met from the Anishinaabe Nation during our visit in Kenora and Grassy Narrows mentioned the residential schools system. Every one of them had a memory of it, either from having experienced the system themselves or from knowing someone in the family who had. Telling this story is difficult and heavy; listening to it is difficult and heavy too. The wounds left by this past are long to heal. It is the story of survivors who carry the weight of memories through time. The community as a whole needs to heal.

We are sitting outside in Grassy Narrows, looking out on to the lake and the Pow Wow ground; something there is very peaceful and traditions have been preserved despite all of it. If only the past could lose its grip and let go of these heavy memories! Maybe each of us, by listening to them, made them very very slightly lighter… the echo, at least, has stayed with me!

*Current exhibit on the history of residential schools: http://www.wherearethechildren.ca/

Treaty culture and its limitations

2011-08-28T16:24:00.000-07:00

During our CPT delegation, we heard many references made to Treaty #3, an official document signed in October 1873 between the Crown of England and the Anishinaabe Nation. The Treaty regulates the use of 55,000 square miles of territory and "the Chiefs negotiated, among other things, that their 'business' would be allowed within the entire territory and that both the lands and resources would be shared between them as 'brothers'" (http://www.gct3.net). Today, Treaty #3 is still the basis of negotiations between the Anishinaabe Nation and the government of Canada.

The records of the Treaty are not 100% straightforward and, as often with historical documents, need to be interpreted. If several accounts and written sources mention the Treaty, views disagree on the exact terms of the agreement. What seems to be certain on the other hand: quickly after the signing of the Treaty, the Canadian government took full control of the territory and its population. The Treaty stands then as an empty monument that justifies History.

The Treaty culture, as I call it, characterizes many encounters between settlers and representatives of First Nations. One of the most celebrated examples occurred in Pennsylvania at the end of the 17th century. According to the legend, William Penn signed a treaty of friendship with the Indians in 1682: "The legend of William Penn's Treaty with the Indians became a universal symbol of religious and civil liberties. Voltaire made reference to the event in 1764, and artists throughout Europe recreated the scene first painted by Benjamin West in 1771" (http://www.penntreatymuseum.org ).

Narratives around treaties contribute to building a positive image of the settlers, often in opposition to the indigenous populations who, sooner or later, are bound to break the treaty. In Ontario, the fight continues over Treaty #3 and its interpretation and thus, embodies the ongoing struggle over whose narrative will eventually become truer. However, and this is a pretty amazing fact I believe, the Supreme Court of Canada, in 1997, in a case brought by the Delgamuukw Nation against British Columbia, "ruled that oral histories were just as important as written testimony" in establishing historical truth (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oral_history).

It will probably take many years to fully implement this ruling, but as a legal decision, it creates a precedent that may ultimately alter History as we know it… and it is a written document that no one can dispute, or can we?

Smudging ceremony

2011-08-19T06:24:00.000-07:00

On Sunday afternoon, our delegation went up to Grassy Narrows. We stayed for 2 nights at the Trapper’s Cabin, a space that the community is lending us during our visit. We’re camping, sort of, all of us sleeping and living in the same room, one kitchen and one bathroom, no shower, no internet, no phone services. People from the community come and go; some of its members are used to CPT delegations and spend time talking and telling. We also received the unexpected visit of Paul, the minister of the Christian Baptist Church on the territory. He tells us about his views of some of the Anishinaabe rituals, his fears that they keep them away from Christian truth and salvation. We nodded, but expressed our perspectives too.

On Tuesday afternoon, while we were in Grassy Narrows, we had a workshop on undoing racism; Charles, one of the school teachers at the local school, joined us. After an intense time of sharing experiences and listening to one another’s stories, it is good, according to Anishinaabe and other first Nations’ tradition to do a smudging ceremony; Charles offered to perform it with us/for us. The ceremony is a cleansing and healing ritual; some grass is lit and each participant breathes in its smell and washes him/herself with its smoke. Traditionally, four different types of grass can be used: sage, cedar, sweetgrass, or tobacco; one of us has sage, so that is what we used. “Sage is burned in smudging ceremonies to drive out bad spirits, feelings, or influences, and also to keep bad spirits from entering the area where a ceremony takes place” (http://www.asunam.com/smudge_ceremony.html).

Charles went around the circle and let us breathe in the sweet smell of sage. At the very end of the ritual, he told us: "you know what this means, we're all pagans now!" We laughed; he added: "but pagan means dweller, we're all dwellers of this land!" I think of Paul, the minister we met earlier, and how things are more complex than a mere pagan/Christian dichotomy and how rituals cross lines. I like that. Today afternoon, we're returning to Grassy Narrows. We'll be participating in the community's annual Pow Wow this weekend, guest-dwellers of their land!

*On Grassy Narrows and its community, see Amnesty International's site: http://www.amnesty.ca/themes/indigenous_grassy_narrows.php.

And off we go

2011-08-13T14:57:00.000-07:00

I arrived in Kenora Ontario yesterday around noon. The members of our CPT delegation (11 people all together) met at the Baptist Church where we’re staying while in Kenora. We represent 6 countries and our ages range from 20 to 71! Everyone is already involved in some social or peace project somewhere and has converged here inspired by the same desire to learn more about the Aboriginal communities and their reality. This part is new for all of us. Before getting out, we need to become real CPTers and receive the famous CPT "red cap." A short ceremony and we are now an official CPT delegation!

Today we had our first visit in the community; we went to the Fellowship Center downtown Kenora, a homeless shelter that provides support for people who don’t have anywhere else to go. Many belong to the Aboriginal community. We ate and talked with people, just to hear a few pieces of their stories.One woman who volunteers at the shelter tells us that Kenora was known as the Alabama of the North because of its racial divide. But right away she adds: "it has changed a lot over the past 5 years; this is a great time to be in Kenora!" Tomorrow we are going to Grassy Narrows, 2 hours North of Kenora, on the reservation. I am curious to see if there too, some small positive changes have transformed reality... wouldn't that be encouraging? Since yesterday, while getting to know each other, people in our group have mentioned a few times the role of positive reinforcement. The more I listen to people's struggles, the more I realize how much positive reinforcement is necessary; I would possibly name it the practical side of faith!

Boreal forest

2011-08-10T10:41:00.000-07:00

One of my most luminous memories of my trip to Alaska is linked to the beauty of the boreal forest near Fairbanks (http://www.borealforest.org/). I didn’t see much of it, just had a glimpse at it, but its light and colors have stayed with me. Tomorrow, I am joining a Christian Peacemaker Teams (http:/www.cpt.org/) delegation to Northwest Ontario; we’ll be visiting Kenora's Anishinaabe communities (http://www.anishinaabemdaa.com/) and learn more about their struggle for justice. The boreal forest that surrounds this area is subject to massive logging that depletes natural resources and destroys the environment. As a result, the Anishinaabe communities are losing their ability to sustain themselves. I am very eager to learn more about this place and this history, to support the local struggle for justice as much as I can, and maybe, at some point, to walk peacefully in the boreal forest.

Leaving Jerusalem

2011-07-19T06:21:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, I left Jerusalem and flew from Tel Aviv/Ben Gurion to Zurich/Switzerland. I arrived Sunday night late in Bienne where I am residing for the next two weeks. The weather is grey and rainy and cool; a big contrast with Israel/Palestine.

I took a cab going to the airport and traveled the same road I had taken 6 weeks earlier when I arrived, only in the other direction. Again, looking at the landscape, I am struck by the good portion of the road that is surrounded by the Wall; we are crossing the Green Line and driving on occupied land. It is hard to ignore the Wall and the watchtowers and the fence and the barbwire: usual signs of the military occupation and in this case, a pretty good indicator that the road has been built on stolen fields. You can click on the map above and see the details of the roads between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv crossing the Green Line.

Aside from the highway system that already takes Palestinian land, the projected fast-train line linking Tel Aviv to Jerusalem will be crossing the Green Line in two different places; the Wall has been built already to allow for this construction. Several organizations are fighting to prevent this construction, but when you look at the site, it seems to be under good progress. However, when I arrive in Switzerland early May, I heard on the news that the German national train company had withdrawn from the construction project, acknowledging it as illegal. A victory for many lobbyists!

What worries me though is the idea that millions of tourists every year drive this road without paying attention to its path and environment. If only people inquired about what they see on this road, it would maybe make a difference. And it is to fear that once they travel by (fast) train, there will be even less chances for them to notice anything.

I am leaving Jerusalem, driving to Tel Aviv, and my last glance at this land is stopped by the Wall, lost in its grey… and I am praying that people will see it.

*Detailed dossier on the A1 project with maps under the title "Crossing the Line": http://www.whoprofits.org/Articles.ph/
*Website to campaign against the train line: http://stopthattrain.org/?category_name=news/
*Article from the Financial Times bout the German DB: http://www.bdsmovement.net/2011/db-exits-a1-6985/

Sheep on dry land

2011-07-16T09:11:00.000-07:00

For my last day in Palestine/Israel, I decided to sign up for a tour of the Jordan Valley organized by the Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions (ICAHD: http://www.icahd.org/). The Jordan Valley is under settlement attack, the land is being taken over, greenhouse by greenhouse, date grove by date grove: the Jordan Valley is the richest "area of Israel and the Palestinian Occupied Territories. Israel has extensively targetted the region for Israeli settlement allowing it to divert the local resources from Palestinian use as well as creating a defensive 'buffer zone' between Israel and Jordan."

See article on Jordan Valley Solidarity page: http://www.jordanvalleysolidarity.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=301%3Aisrael-plans-to-double-settlement-area-in-jordan-valley&Itemid=/6/.

This is not a covert operation: at the beginning of July, Israel officially announced that it would double the size of its settlements in the Valley, raising significantly its use of natural resources proportionally to its agricultural production in the region. Water is probably the main problem! Since we are in the desert, there is already not enough water; additionally, settlements are diverting every single source of water to its various cultures. Palestinian farmers are left with very little to no water to tend their fields. Visually, the contrast is striking: on one side, a green Israeli settlement, on the other, brown and dusty Palestinian land that cannot be cultivated.

When we leave, I see a herd of sheep grazing on dirt and I am naively asking myself, "what are they eating?" When I picture sheep, I picture New Zealand or Ireland, a very lush landscape; here, in this dry land, they seem displaced, lost. And yet, here, what is unnatural is the green side of the landscape.

Babel revisited

2011-07-15T11:24:00.000-07:00

Today, big day in Jerusalem: the Sheik Jarrah Solidarity Movement (see post June 19, 2011: "Chain of solidarity") had called for a major solidarity march, expecting people from all over Israel to join the regular Friday protest. It worked! Numbers vary of course: some talked about 1500 people, others about 3000... in any case, the march was quite impressive, stretching from Jaffa Gate to New Gate (and beyond) when it started, which represents a good portion of the Old City’s walls! I heard this was one of the biggest joint protests, gathering Israelis and Palestinians, in the past 20 years... and I was there!

Hearing a mixed of Hebrew and Arabic is what moves me the most when I attend the Sheik Jarrah march. It reminds me that everyone belongs to this place and that people are struggling for the same cause. Here, this is very powerful: languages being spoken indiscriminately, a Babel revisited where linguistic differences are not a curse, but a gift!

After the march, I went to a lecture given by the historian Ilan Pappe (http://socialsciences.exeter.ac.uk/iais/staff/pappe/). In the Q & A session, someone asked him about the role of the Israeli peace movement and how it could become more influential. He said (I am paraphrasing): you cannot look at numbers every year or you get depressed; you need to look at numbers every ten years, like an historian would, in order to evaluate its growth. If the opposition goes from 3% to 6% in two years, it is a significant change!

Maybe, today, numbers went up, a tiny, tiny bit, and yet, this is big!

Seeds of justice

2011-07-14T06:45:00.000-07:00

For the last time during my stay, I attended today the communion service at Sabeel (Arabic for 'the way' and also a 'channel' or 'spring' of life-giving water). Founded in the late 1980s, Sabeel is an ecumenical grassroots movement among Palestinian Christians that is inspired by the principles of Liberation Theology. Rev. Naim Ateek, the director of Sabeel, has written numerous essays developing the tenets of Palestinian Liberation Theology; Sabeel’s mission statement sumps them up: "Sabeel strives to develop a spirituality based on love, justice, peace, nonviolence, liberation and reconciliation for the different national and faith communities." (http://www.sabeel.org/)

Every Thursday at noon, the Center opens its doors to those who want to share its weekly communion service. I made a point of attending it as often as possible over the past six weeks. This weekly service, led by Naim Ateek, represents a wonderful opportunity to read the New Testament together and to share questions and insights. Today, we read the Parable of the Sower in Matthew 13:

"A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown." (NIV)

After the reading, we discussed the following question: Sabeel insists on justice and peace as the fundamental elements of Christian faith; if we are to read the "seed" as a "seed of justice" instead of the traditional reading of the "seed" as the "word of God," how do we interpret the parable? The discussion was very lively, everyone commenting on the risks and challenges of sowing seeds of justice, not knowing where they would fall. As one of the participants reminded us, the sower goes everywhere; he doesn’t just choose the "good" soil, but scatters his seeds in every terrain, even if the chances of them growing are not as great. Many had examples of seeds of justice that grew in unexpected places.

One thing always bothers me with this parable: how predictable its reading has become! It is pretty clear (thanks to the explanation already inserted in the narrative) that the final soil is the good guy whereas the rocks and the thorns are clearly the bad guys. However, being in Palestine and listening to Palestinians discussing this parable around issues of justice, I realized that these pre-conceived notions of good and bad need to be challenged: many seeds bear fruit, take roots, and grow despite their harsh environment; here, in Palestine, if this is not a foreseeable possibility, then there is no hope!

Twice this week, I heard anecdotes about the Wall being a place of unexpected revelation: it forces people to pause and face the reality of this land. After today's discussion of the Parable of the Sower, something else can be added: only seeds, growing in unusual places, will crack it!

To see or not to see

2011-07-11T02:53:00.001-07:00

My brother was visiting for a week; he left yesterday. This was his first trip to Israel/Palestine. Preparing the program of the week, I wanted to make sure he would get a chance to see pieces of the whole picture. It is a big challenge I realized: what is the whole picture? What do you choose to highlight? We went to Bethlehem and Hebron; we visited Yad Vashem and the City of David; we witnessed protests in Sheik Jarrah and attended a service at the synagogue; we ate Palestinian food and drank Israeli wine…

The Palestinian Initiative for Responsible Tourism (PIRT: http:// www.pirt.ps/) published some time ago a Code of Conduct for Responsible Tourism in the Holy Land. The main objective of it is to encourage tourists "to choose a balanced and inclusive itinerary and… to get first hand information from local contacts about safety issues, but also questions regarding culture and customs." Balanced and inclusive are the keywords I suppose, and yet they are open to many interpretations. Is my version of "balanced and inclusive" right? I know many people who would have done it differently: a little bit less Israel and a little bit more Palestine or the other way around. The most important element in either case may be to contextualize each step and to always think critically. And, as we know, the latter represents a big challenge for many pilgrims coming from whole over the world to this land; maybe that is why the Code of Conduct addresses tourism in the Holy Land and not in Israel/Palestine.

When my brother and I left Bethlehem last Wednesday, we stopped at the Wall and I took this picture: a new graffiti I hadn’t seen yet. A Pieta of a different kind: what do you see when you look at it?

*Here are four Palestinian travel groups offering alternative tours; they all collaborate with Israelis:

1) Green Olive Tours: http:// www.toursinenglish.com/
2) Siraj Center: http:// www.sirajcenter.org/
3) Alternative Tourism Group: http://www.atg.ps/
4) Walk Palestine: http://hijazih.wordpress.com/

*In addition to travel agencies, some associations (mainly Israeli) offer alternative tours as well; here are four of them:

1) Breaking the Silence: http://www.breakingthesilence.org.il/
2) Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions: http://www.icahd.org/
3) Emek Shaveh: http://www.alt-arch.org/
4) Hebron-France: http://www.hebron-france.org/en/

Praying at the Wall

2011-07-03T10:00:00.000-07:00

Last year I took this picture at the Bethlehem check point; I loved the slogan, "alternative wailing wall." This year, the graffiti is gone and has been replaced by another one, less colorful. The Wall is a living thing, changing with people and carrying their thoughts, cries, demands. In this sense, it is truly an alternative Wailing Wall. Today, I am leaving Bethlehem and going on the other side of the Wall to Jerusalem. I will be there for the next two weeks. Later this afternoon, I will cross the check point one more time; always a stressful experience I find.

As a way of saying goodbye, I attended the Wall Walk on Friday evening. Each Friday, the Caritas sisters come to the Wall, next to the checkpoint to walk and pray. Anyone can join them during this time of prayer. I thought that would be a good way to end my stay here. It is some kind of peaceful moment, despite the environment with concrete and barbwires and machine guns and soldiers… it transforms the Wall into a wall of prayer and lament.

That Friday evening, the new EAPPI team joined the walk; they just arrived and are settling in and learning about what their life will look like for the next 3 months. It was nice to meet them, to shake their hands, and to walk with them along the Wall. I know they are here; somehow, it will help the prayers to go on and perhaps they will once be heard.

Resting in peace

2011-06-30T07:08:00.000-07:00

Last year in February, I attended a press conference in Jerusalem, held simultaneously in New York and Geneva, announcing that a petition was filled with the U.N. against the destruction by Israeli authorities of a Muslim cemetery near the Old City (http://www.mamillacampaign.org/). The Mamilla cemetery is a holy site for Muslims since the 7th century; according to the tradition, the companions of the Prophet were buried there. In 1944, the British mandate recognized it as a historic site. Shortly after, in 1948, this part of the city fell under Israeli control and the access to the cemetery was closed to Palestinians for years. Now the cemetery is located in the West part of Jerusalem and a construction project threatens the site.

Last year’s petition was a cry for help, hoping that the international community would prevent the desecration of the Mamilla cemetery. Despite various appeals, the Israeli Court has repeatedly ruled in favor of the use of the site for the construction of a "Museum of Tolerance" by the Simon Wiesenthal Center based in Los Angeles (http://www.wiesenthal.com/). The municipality of Jerusalem recently reissued the authorization for the construction and this past Sunday morning, at the crack of dawn, Israeli bulldozers destroyed nearly 100 headstones in the cemetery (http://ccrjustice.org/newsroom/press-releases/jerusalem-municipality-destroys-cemetery-headstones-approves-museum-of-tolerance-construction/). Not many media covered this information; even here, in Jerusalem, it seems people learned it by accident. Such a desecration in any other part of the world would have raised loud condemnations.

According to the Jewish tradition, a cemetery can never be dismantled; does it mean that some dead have more rights than others?

Blessings and curses

2011-06-26T00:47:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I joined a group of American Christian tourists, mostly from Ohio and other neighboring states, traveling for 2 weeks in Israel. For the first time in years of existence, this specific tour included a day into the Occupied Territories and a visit of some biblical sites North of Jerusalem. Our first stop was Mount Gerizim by the Palestinian city of Nablus (biblical name: Shechem). Mount Gerizim is regarded as the historical place where Joshua entered the Promised Land with the people of Israel. In Deuteronomy 27:12-13 Moses explains to the people of Israel the ritual they need to perform upon their arrival on the other side of the Jordan River: half the tribes are to stand "on Mount Gerizim to bless the people" and the other half on "Mount Ebal to pronounce curses." Blessings and curses correspond to God’s commandments and Israel’s obedience to them and thus inaugurate Israel's life in the Promised Land.

When you stand on Mount Gerizim, you can see Mount Ebal in the near distance and below, in the valley, you see the city of Nablus/Shechem, where, according to Genesis 12:6-7, Abram "built an altar to the Lord who had appeared to him ... and had given that land to his descendants." Standing on Mount Gerizim, you are standing at the crossroads of many biblical narratives, central to the identity of Israel as a land and a nation. In today’s reality, it has become a place of tensions as one can imagine!

Our little group is standing on Mount Gerizim and facing Mount Ebal, one of the leaders of the group reads for us the curses and blessings listed in Deuteronomy 27:14-28:14, a mini reenactment of the biblical story. No one pays much attention to the broader landscape of this site: behind us, Har Bracha Israeli settlement (http://www.shechem.org/bracha/), below us in the valley, Balata Palestinian refugee camp (http://www.unrwa.org/etemplate.php?id=109/).

Har Bracha (“mount of blessing”) is an ideological settlement, founded in the early 1980s; today its population approximates 1600 and it occupies 0.60 square kilometers. Its claim to the land is directly based on the biblical narratives of Genesis and Deuteronomy.

Balata refugee camp was founded in 1950 by the U.N. to give temporary housing to Palestinian families who had lost their homes in Jaffa; today, Balata is the largest refugee camp in the West Bank and, with approximately 30’000 people living on 0.25 square kilometers, it is the most densely populated too.

Our little reenactment goes on; the reading of each curse is accompanied by a collective amen as the biblical text requires. I am listening carefully to the curses: what does God condemn so strongly? And then comes the third curse:

Cursed is anyone who moves their neighbor’s boundary stone.
Then all the people shall say, Amen!

No one, I believe, can see the irony of reading such a curse while standing between an Israeli settlement built on occupied land and a Palestinian refugee camp built for people who have lost their land. No one, except for our Palestinian tour guide who, upon hearing this curse, answers with a loud amen ! And, as a small sign of support, I dare say amen with him!

Unauthorized presence

2011-06-22T06:10:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I joined the Wi'am Center for another fieldtrip; we went to Beit Ummar, an important Palestinian farming community South of Bethlehem. Approximately 17’000 people live in this municipality and their agricultural production is essential to Palestinians. The village is currently surrounded by 6 Israeli settlements, slowly eating away the farming land of the village. This forced cohabitation generates numerous problems for the local community: a very strong military presence around the village with ongoing risks such as the possible closure of the village by the Israeli army or regular arrests of villagers; the sewage from the settlements being dumped into Palestinian fields; the regular attacks by settlers on farmers; the growing difficulty for Palestinian farmers to access fields and orchards...

Beit Ummar is located on the road that goes from Bethlehem to Hebron, technically the heart of the Palestinian territories. However, driving on this road, it is difficult to see anything of what Palestine could possibly be: the road is built to access settlements and the entire landscape is made of one settlement after another, one outpost after another. It always puzzles me deeply to see the reality of Israeli settlements; to see that they exist, function, prosper, and grow… as if nothing could stop them! And nothing does, right? If you get caught in this landscape (and it is visually very powerful), you are made to believe that Beit Ummar is, at the end, the unauthorized presence on this land.

Site of the Palestine Solidarity Project defending Beit Ummar's rights, in collaboration with international groups as well as Israeli activists: http://palestinesolidarityproject.org/

Site of the Land Research Center providing a study of the settlements around Bethlehem with maps (under Case Studies, go to May 2001, and click on the 3rd link): http://www.poica.org/

The chain of solidarity

2011-06-19T01:01:00.000-07:00

Friday afternoon I was in Jerusalem, following one of the current EAs in various parts of the city. We went first to Silwan, the Palestinian neighborhood located just below the City of David archeological site and, therefore, under constant threat of demolition; its population has now organized peaceful weekly protests. Then, I attended the Women in Black’s vigil during which the same small group of Israeli women was standing patiently facing a pretty high level of verbal violence. Finally, I went to Sheikh Jarrah to witness the weekly protest of the Solidarity Movement. Each of these spots in the city represents one element of the same struggle “…towards civil equality within Israel and an end to the Israeli occupation of Palestine.” (see site of the Solidarity Movement: http://www.en.justjlm.org/)

More than a year later, everyone is in the same exact place, holding the same signs, chanting the same slogans. I came and left and came again; they stayed! What right do I have to be there? This is not my struggle, no? What right do I have to stand next to all of them? And then, I leave anyway!

At the end of the Women in Black’s vigil, each one of the women who have been participating in this vigil for more than 20 years thanked me: “Thank you for coming, thank you for your help!” Their generosity moves me; I wasn’t even wearing black! And yet, they are reminding me that I am part of a long, long chain of solidarity… and it matters to them.

Nurturing hope

2011-06-14T05:38:00.000-07:00

Saturday afternoon, I went to the Caritas Baby Hospital (http://www.kinderhilfe-bethlehem.ch/en/) in Bethlehem. Bashir, the PR person of the hospital, kindly agreed to give me a private guided tour of the facility; eventually two other people joined us: an intern medical student from Zurich and the General Manager of Children’s Relief Bethlehem, the mother organization in Lucerne. We were all Swiss, it turns out; this is appropriate since this hospital was founded by a Swiss priest, Ernst Schnydrig (1912-1978), in 1952!

“Patients come from all over the West Bank, where the hospital has built up a reputation for excellent care. The fact that the treatment is available at low, or even no cost, means anyone in need can access its services. Social background and religion are not taken into account”(http://www.swissinfo.ch/eng/swiss_news/Bringing_medical_aid_to_Bethlehem_s_babies.html?cid=7920554/).

The role of this hospital is twofold: cares and treatments of course, but prevention and education as well. According to the CIA (https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/rankorder/2091rank.html), the infant mortality rate in Palestine is almost 15% (against 4.12 in Israel or, for instance, 4.08 in Switzerland or 6.06% in the U.S.). The only facility of its kind in Palestine, the hospital can currently handle approximately 30’000 patients a year; as the needs of the population are growing constantly, donations are needed too. "Every year since 1963 the Catholic churches in Switzerland have donated the offerings taken at Midnight Mass to support the Caritas Baby Hospital in Bethlehem" (article in Swissinfo).

In the context of difficult access to cares, the hospital fulfills yet another essential role: nurturing hope for Palestinian mothers and fathers! When you visit the hospital, you see the unit for prematured babies: it has amazing installations! There, hope is alive, one baby at a time!

Nonviolence was not born yesterday

2011-06-13T08:35:00.000-07:00

The Arab Spring has been hailed by most Western media as a remarkable nonviolent uprising, engaging entire communities, young and old, women and men, Muslims and Christians, into an unarmed struggle for democracy. The case of Libya, and now Syria, where the State’s response to nonviolent protests is to kill thousands of people, is strongly condemned by the international community. In the midst of all that, who has heard of Palestinian nonviolent resistance? When was the last time their actions were highlighted? Some, like Yousef Munayyer, speak of a “hidden history.”

And yet, the Palestinian nonviolent movement has a very long history: it started in the early 1900s and has been an ongoing element of Palestinian resistance. In April, I heard Dr Mazin Qumsiyeh at the University of Utah talked about his latest book, Popular Resistance in Palestine, a retrospective of the history of nonviolent resistance in Palestine. Today, I am in Bethlehem, attending a workshop on nonviolence at the Wi’am Center. And all the participants (mostly American college students by the way) are reminded that nonviolent resistance in Palestine was not born yesterday; on the contrary, it is a legacy, a tradition! The Wi’am Center and other voices in Palestine are there to remind us of that forgotten history: can you hear them?

Not everyone can come to Palestine to listen to first-hand stories of its people and the “…the New York Times and the US media more generally almost never report on what 99.5% of Palestinians have done every day of their lives for the last 38 years, nonviolently resist Israeli occupation.”
(http://www.ifamericansknew.org/media/nonviolent.html/)

So for a change, let’s use the internet! Here is a very small sample of documents and information one can find if s/he Googles “Palestinian nonviolent history:”

http://pulsemedia.org/2010/03/10/active-non-violence-in-palestine-and-israel/

http://blog.amnestyusa.org/middle-east/palestinian-nonviolent-resistance-has-strong-roots/

http://www.palestinemonitor.org/spip/spip.php?article49/

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/may/21/palestinian-nonviolence-israeli-repression/

http://www.economist.com/blogs/democracyinamerica/2011/05/israel_and_palestine_0/

http://www.holylandtrust.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=462&Itemid=307/

http://www.thejerusalemfund.org/ht/display/ContentDetails/i/29324/pid/2254/

Structural displacement

2011-06-08T10:40:00.000-07:00

Today I took my first field trip with the team of the Wi’am Center (http://www.alaslah.org/); we went to al-Wajala, a small community outside Bethlehem, South of Jerusalem, deeply affected by the building of the Separation Wall. We met with the representative of a grassroots organization of popular resistance who told us about the multiple negative effects the building of the Wall and the settlements is having on the the village: individual houses cut off from their community, settlements sewage drained in Palestinian fields, orchards being kept on the Israeli side of the Wall, etc. (read about it on the following site: http://www.paltelegraph.com/opinions/diaries/8389-palestinian-popular-resistance-committees-operating-under-strain.html/)

More than once, she mentioned the notion of "structural dsiplacement" as one way to describe what is happening with these ongoing constructions in the Occupied Territories. I pondered it for a while until she said: "Israel cannot afford to displace us like they did; they cannot just move families, with women and children, from one place to the other." Then I understood: structural displacement is literally faceless! The world will not see crying children, screaming women, or men being pushed around. Only construction sites, dirt roads, concrete walls... How powerful it is to play with images, the other way around.

From one Wall to the other

2011-06-08T00:31:00.000-07:00

I landed in Tel Aviv on Sunday evening and spent two days in the Old City of Jerusalem before moving to Bethlehem. It was very special to be back in Jerusalem and to walk the streets of the Old City again; as if our little EAPPI group had left yesterday! The sun was bright and hot, the stones were cool and preserved some shade. Within the Walls, the Old City appears to be a protected space where tourists can wander. Yesterday, I moved to Bethlehem; the idea of moving behind the Separation Wall weighed on me and I experienced a feeling of enclosure right away. I am making plans: when can I return to Jerusalem? And then, of course, I realize that having the freedom of making such a plan is a luxury... I can go back and forth between the Walls! From my terrace, I have a beautiful view of Bethlehem's surroundings; in the distance, I can see the bridge that allows those who can drive back and forth (mostly Israeli settlers) to by-pass the Separation Wall. It will be part of my landscape for the next four weeks, a reminder that bridges don't always unite. However, walls always separate!

About to leave

2011-06-03T01:21:00.001-07:00

I have been in Switzerland for a month now and, as one of my colleagues told me, I will experience quite a contrast between Switzerland and Israel/Palestine!

I am taking off from Geneva this coming Sunday morning and will be landing in Tel Aviv in the afternoon. All together, I will be in Palestine/Israel for 6 weeks, living and volunteering first in Bethlehem for a month and then spending 2 weeks in East Jerusalem. During this time, I will update my blog and share again impressions and encounters. I am looking forward to reading once again your comments and thoughts.

How many stories can you tell?

2010-07-05T09:27:00.000-07:00

I left San Jose last Thursday and I am now back in Salt Lake City for a few weeks. Before leaving, I had another opportunity to present my EAPPI experience to a group of faculty, students, and other interested persons at the University of Costa Rica's main campus in San Jose. After my presentations of the EAPPI program in Costa Rica, I am coming back with some ideas for the presentations I will give this coming fall. For sure, the most powerful element of the presentation is the support of the pictures. However, it is not enough to show them only; it is essential to take time to talk about each picture and to tell each personal story behind the picture. This is indeed the role of the witness. One question will stay with me while I will be preparing other talks: How many stories can you tell? Which ones do you share? And at the end, what becomes of the ones you cannot bring back?

Singing with the choir

2010-06-05T16:34:00.000-07:00

Thursday, I was invited by the Centro de Amigos para la Paz [http://www.amigosparalapaz.org/] to give two presentations about my experience with EAPPI. It has been wonderful to meet the people of CAP here in San Jose. They are all dedicated to social justice, lobbying local politicians, and contributing to numerous humanitarian projects. Needless to say that my presentations at the CAP were not about educating an audience, but rather about sharing information and giving some first-hand tools to help the advocay efforts made in San Jose. By Thursday, a petition had already been sent to the Costa Rican government to ask for sanctions against Israel after its raid on the international flotilla.

After my second presentation, the group decided to create a committee to work on raising awareness regarding the economic boycott against Israel; apparently, many Costa Rican businesses have strong ties with Israel and (in)directly support its politics. The expression goes: "Preaching to the choir;" however, on Thursday, I didn't feel I was preaching, but rather joining in and echoing words and actions already underway! It's good to hear the choir sing!

They shall not hurt or destroy...

2010-06-02T18:30:00.000-07:00

June 2, my birthday and the first of my EAPPI talks. I am currently in Costa Rica, San Jose, visiting various groups and trying to learn Spanish! Among the people I met here are the staff, professors, and students of the Universidad Biblica Latinoamerica [see: http://www.ubila.net/]. A rich and diverse community, with individuals coming from several countries, shaped by many stories and journeys. This afternoon, they came to listen to my presentation about my experience with the EAPPI program and the situation in Palestine.

This past Sunday marked the official beginning of the World Week for Peace in Palestine/Israel initiated by the World Council of Churches. Monday morning, Israeli forces attacked and killed peace activists in the international waters outside Gaza! More than ever, it seems important to speak up and to support all the peace activists who are trying to be heard. At the end of my presentation, the silence was heavy and sad.

Isaiah 65:25 quoted by Mitri Raheb at the end of his book, I am a Palestinian Christian, reminds us of a promise that is still to come:

They shall not hurt or destroy
On all my holy mountain
Says the Lord

Coming full circle

2010-04-15T12:29:00.000-07:00

I have been home for a week now; I am back in Salt Lake City and getting back to the life I put in parentheses for three months. The flight all the way from Tel Aviv was long; too many hours really, sitting on a plane, covering so many miles, leaving behind bits and pieces of so many stories and lives. I realize landing is taking time, much more than expected. You don’t just come back and pick up things where you left them. A few people ask me, “How was your trip?” and right now, I have very little to say. It will come. In the meantime, I’m closing this blog for now with a picture and a short quote.

The picture was taken near Bethlehem on March 4, in the morning. We joined a protest organized by various pacifist groups against the extension of the Wall. The preliminary construction had already destroyed several gardens, uprooted olive trees, and left some houses without sewage systems. A few kids were participating in the protest; these two on the picture were waving the Palestinian flag at the cars driving on the highway below. The flag in this picture reminds me of its role in the conflict between Palestine and Israel: on one side, the Israeli flag is a symbol of conquest often used to claim land for Israel; on the other side, the Palestinian flag is a symbol of resistance used to claim statehood for Palestine. When I see the Palestinian flag on the shoulders of this kid, I think of the next generation of Palestinians and the weigh they will be carrying while defending their national and cultural identity, while hoping for freedom.

The quote then is taken from one of Suzanne Gardiner’s Ghazals, a reading recommended to me on this blog. I found the book at home when I arrived last week. I am reading her lines and these two right now capture many memories and impressions:

Here’s a feast table A Prayer mat An airport
A lexicon of rooms where we do not meet

The port of Jaffa and its minaret

2010-04-06T08:09:00.000-07:00

I am spending my last 24 hours in this country walking around the Old City of Jaffa. It is a beautiful town, with many cute cafes and restaurants, and great beaches; it has the flair of any seaside town. It feels like the perfect place to end my 3-month stay with the EAPPI. Here, there is a sense of harmony: Israelis and Palestinians coexist; in the streets, you hear Arabic as much as Hebrew; a blend of both cuisines is in the air and flavors all the dishes. Is it a false harmony? In many regards, probably! However, for a moment I don’t want to scratch the surface...

Then I am reminded of what is happening on the other side: yesterday, three of the new EAs placed in Jerusalem were attacked by a group of young settlers in Sheikh Jarrah [see: http://www.eappi.org/en/news/]. I am thinking of my colleagues and the difficult reality they are facing. They have just started and must wonder how much more violence they are going to witness. Witnesses we are; and soon we will have to speak up.

Slowly moving out

2010-04-04T12:40:00.000-07:00

Our EAPPI term officially ended on Tuesday. One step at the time, we have all been going back to our regular lives. Last Saturday, we (the Jerusalem team) moved out of our rooms, space, habits of three months. A strange and absorbing process, packing, sorting out, and cleaning. Since then, we said many goodbyes and everyone but me has now left the country. I am still here, still packing and unpacking, carrying around many feelings and memories. Wednesday night, I'll be flying back to Salt Lake City and I am not sure yet of what will at the end come with me.

In the meantime, I went to Jordan to see Petra, Wadi Rum, and Aqaba. Beautiful country and it was nice to be a tourist in the Middle East, in a different environment. I came back to Israel and East Jerusalem on Friday, on time for Easter. This morning, I paid a last visit to the Mount of Olives for an early Easter service. From up there, the sunrise was not so shiny, not so clear, revealing the East side of the city, the Wall and its checkpoint. But how do you celebrate Easter here without paying attention to your surroundings? On the Mount of Olives, our sight could certainly not be blinded; and if Easter tells us something about a victory over death and darkness, can blindness be a valid option anyway?

He saw the city and wept over it…

2010-03-26T12:09:00.000-07:00

During the last couple of weeks, we have been reminded that the city of Jerusalem always stands at the center of the conflict. She is relentlessly burdened by competitive claims about her history and her religious past. Lately, all of these tensions seemed to have been lodged under the dome of the Hurva synagogue.

See article in the New York Times: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/16/world/middleeast/16jerusalem.html/)

Built at the beginning of the 18th century by a Rabbi from Poland, Yehuda Hanassi, this synagogue was just reopened. Located in the heart of the Jewish quarter, it was destroyed in 1948 by the Jordanian army. Since Israel annexed East Jerusalem in 1967, numerous rehabilitation projects have been submitted to the authorities; and at last, on March 15, the new Hurva synagogue was inaugurated by Israel’s religious and political leaders. This public event provoked the unrest that most TV channels showed last week.

Nothing is neutral in the Holy City of Jerusalem. The Israeli authorities know it; my colleagues and I had never seen so many soldiers and police forces in three months. The Old City was closed to most Palestinian men, checkpoints were set up at the main gates of the Old City, and on a larger scale the access to Jerusalem was simply forbidden to Palestinian men from the West Bank between 16 and 50 years old. Ultimately, it meant that Muslim men were not allowed to go to Al Aqsa Mosque for their prayer.

A new closure of the City is predicted for Easter. The rumor is that Palestinian Christians from the West Bank won’t be allowed to enter the Old City and access the Holy Sepulcher. Meanwhile, for Palms Sunday, 50’000 pilgrims are expected on the Mount of Olives; and many more for Easter Sunday! Those visitors won’t be denied the right to enter into the Old City!

“As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it and said, ‘If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes.’” (Luke 19:41-42) While everyone was celebrating Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, he wept; in the midst of all the hosanna and gloria, Jesus wept for Jerusalem and her destiny. Who will cry with him this coming Sunday? Most pilgrims will rush to the Mount of Olives, singing loudly their hosanna and gloria, forgetting that here nothing is neutral. And who will then remember the Palestinian Christians who are far away stopped at the gates of Jerusalem?

Afwan

2010-03-23T12:26:00.000-07:00

My last days off before the end of my term, I am in Tiberias, visiting biblical sites. It is beautiful; the Sea of Galilee is calm and the hills around it are still green. Tourists go from one site to another, following Jesus' footsteps. I do the same. Most of them are wearing a cross around their neck and, just in case you’ve missed it, they are wearing a little sticker saying "Christian pilgrimage tour.” They kiss holy doors and holy rocks of all kinds, in adoration of Jesus’ deeds. Pretty much everything here is holy! I cannot escape them.

I am at the Church of the Beatitudes. According to Matthew’s gospel, Jesus pronounces his famous eight Beatitudes on a mount—Sermon on the Mount; the Church then overlooks the Sea of Galilee, the gardens are stunning, the site is peaceful. When you go inside the Church, you can read the text of the Beatitudes… Blessed are the poor in spirit, the ones who mourn, the meek, the ones who thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure of heart, the peacemakers, the ones who are persecuted. Everyone visiting the Church is praying or singing, remembering Jesus’ life and words. No doubt everyone knows the Beatitudes by heart!

However, I am pretty sure most of them will not meet any Palestinian or if they do, it will be by accident and they won’t even notice the person speaks Arabic. I always thought Christians were the first ones to denounce oppression and injustice; here, in the Holy Land, the fight is put on hold I suppose. Not many Christians touring Jesus’ land will inquire about the “other” side of the Wall.

Before leaving the site, I go to the bathroom. The woman who cleans and takes care of the bathroom is Palestinian. She speaks Arabic and she is Muslim; she is clearly the only one around here. Who will pay attention to her? They are all absorbed by Jesus’ words after all!

On my way out, I see her and I say Shukran (which means “thank you” in Arabic). Her face lights up and she offers me a wonderful smile as she says Awfan (which means “you’re welcome” in Arabic). At the end of the day, that’s all I remember and I can still hear her say: Awfan! And I wonder what Jesus said, really, on this very mount—how do you say “you’re welcome” in Aramaic?

Why do you want to be scared?

2010-03-18T03:43:00.000-07:00

Over the past few days the tension in the streets of Jerusalem has been high. We have encountered protests and battalions of armed forces on a daily basis. It reached a pick on Tuesday when clashes broke all over the West Bank and East Jerusalem. The situation is complex and hard to understand fully. However, one common element to everyone trapped in this dynamic is the fear factor, not a TV reality game show here!

In this environment, it is important to cultivate the fear of this Other. Some events in history, past and recent, partially explain where the fear comes from. But it certainly doesn’t justify the manipulation of the fear factor by both the authorities and the media. On the contrary, both have an ethical responsibility to fight stereotypes and hasty generalizations.

The same ethical responsibility falls on education too. If the educational system keeps sending strong messages of constant danger, how can kids feel secure? The best answer for Israeli school children is to be accompanied, wherever their class goes, by an armed security guard! Except for the Jewish quarter, schools are also forbidden by the Ministry of Education to visit the Old City which is deemed too dangerous for Israeli kids.

On Tuesday, after having witnessed the clashes between Palestinian kids and the Israeli police (trash set on fire, stones-throwing, sound grenades, arrests and blindfolding, etc.), I went to walk on the walls of the Old City. There I met several groups of Israelis school children. Each group was accompanied by 3 adults and the usual armed guard; and each group was carrying a big Israeli flag to go to the Western Wall. They were all around 6 years old. At one point, I passed a young girl who was talking to her classmate and asking her this wonderful question: “Why do you want to be scared of things?”

The question stayed with me. By asking this question, I want to believe that this little girl was questioning the fear factor instilled in her life by all the adults around her; I want to believe she understood that she had the choice to refuse fear… Am I naive? Was it really a critical question or was it simply a direct reference to the machine gun protecting her? I don't know, but the question will stay with me.

Hundred years of silent prayers

2010-03-10T09:13:00.000-08:00

On March 6, 2010, the Quaker Meeting House in Ramallah was celebrating its 100th anniversary; I was lucky enough to be able to attend their special centennial meeting last Sunday. The Meeting House was full; many of them told me they had never seen such a crowd on a Sunday morning. The streets of Ramallah are bustling; Sunday morning is the beginning of the week here, the vendors are in their shops, the market tables are full, and people are going and coming. The Quaker Meeting House is in the middle of the commercial center of Ramallah; coming up from the bus station, I am walking through the city center and, as one of my colleagues noticed, it looks like an obstacle course. Entering the Meeting House, the contrast between the outside and the inside is quite striking! I enter an oasis of peace and silence and tranquility. It is very calming.

The stones of the wall are 100 years old. They are bare and solid. Not much else is in the Meeting House, just a beautiful tapestry hanging on the front wall and a few quotes on the other walls reminding every visitor that silence is a natural way of listening to God. More than anywhere else, sitting in silence in Ramallah is a restorative process. When I leave the Meeting House, I know I have to go through Qalandiya checkpoint, a sinister place.

I am a friend of the Friends; that is how I introduce myself. And in Ramallah too, I meet extraordinary individuals among the people coming to Meeting. Their kindness, compassion, and endless commitment to justice are somehow reassuring. These people truly care and it matters so much. They recognize the EAs and always welcome them.

Last Sunday, the Meeting House was full; even the mayor of Ramallah –a woman!—was there to honor the Quaker presence in the city. People came from England and the U.S. to salute them and share memories. I am there too, listening to their stories and pondering this rich history. They were there in the 19th century already, before the Meeting House was even built. Pioneers of peace and justice in a land thirsty for it. The stones of the Meeting House are their witness, echoing the silent prayers of the past century. If silence is a way of listening to God, is God then listening to our silences? There, before going back to the terrible weight of the outside world, I want to believe so!

[Website: http://www.ramallahquakers.org/]

How do you pray in Hebrew or in Arabic?

2010-03-07T07:30:00.000-08:00

They are all wearing a kippa, some of them live in settlements near Jerusalem; many are rabbis, others teach at a Yeshiva school. They speak Hebrew, but the meeting will be held in English. We are 18 people all together. I am not Jewish; I am attending the meeting with two of my fellows EAs. At the other end of the table, a Sheikh and one of his students. Unexpected group of people! As we go around the table to hear everyone’s name and brief background, each of us says something about his/her spiritual journey. Prayer is what brings this group together: how does everyone pray? What are the distinctive elements of each tradition? What words? What history? What narrative?

The Interfaith Encounter Association (IEA: http://www.interfaith-encounter.org/) “is dedicated to promoting peace in the Middle East through interfaith dialogue and cross-cultural study…. religion can and should be a source of the solution for conflicts that exist in the region and beyond.” Founded by Yehuda Stolov right before the second Intifada, the association seeks to promote peace and justice through interfaith dialogues and an understanding of religious identities. As such, the IEA is a grass-root movement that encourages people in various communities to meet their neighbors and share with them their beliefs and traditions. Many groups meet all over Israel/Palestine (and the Middle East), some of them gathering Jewish settlers and Palestinian villagers. The IEA has been recognized by the UNESCO has an important organization contributing to the culture of peace.

Clearly, I am not wearing a kippa and I don’t know how to pray in Hebrew or in Arabic; I am Christian and I am asked to talk about my own tradition. At the same time, I am wondering how much of this exchange will have an impact on the broader picture. Why does it matter that these people, just 18 of us, are sitting together around the same table and speaking about the role of prayer in each tradition? Does it matter? We’re discussing the power of prayer: do prayers have any power or is it just always up to God to decide what comes next? No matter how you answer this question, you are left with a puzzle. Leaving the meeting knowing that I will not be here to attend the next one, I am carrying this puzzle with me. And I am thinking: how we pray ultimately is not so important; however Whom we pray to is crucial; and we still have a lot to talk about.

Feeling guilty

2010-02-28T06:39:00.000-08:00

Very soon, I will have been in Jerusalem for two months; I landed in Tel Aviv on January 2! After two months, some new feelings seem to come up that I would summarize under three headings. Firstly, an inevitable feeling of oppression in this environment where it is difficult to ignore the continuous presence of armed forces. Secondly, a feeling of sadness, overwhelming at times, when you look around you and you grasp the degree of suffering experienced by everyone. Thirdly, a feeling of guilt at not being here long enough and at having the extraordinary freedom to leave and to travel. Somehow, it looks like we are always on the wrong side of the wall...

Sheltered lives

2010-02-21T02:26:00.000-08:00

Our group of EAs just passed its mid-term mark. At the end of last week, the EAPPI staff took all 24 of us on a trip to Israel. During our journey we visited two Kibbutzim and met with Israeli pacifists. First stop, Wednesday morning, the small town of Sderot right at the Eastern border of Gaza. Between 2001 and 2008 (except for a 5-month cease fire in 2008), Sderot was the main target of rockets fired from Gaza. We are told that for several years, Sderot would have had between 5 and 60 rockets a day falling from their sky. Our guest, Nomika Zion, a member and founder of the urban Kibbutz Migvan in Sderot tells us the stress and the fear of those years; it is impossible to imagine!

How does one respond to this level of fear and stress? Unexpectedly, in the case of this community, the creation of The Other Voice was their response, a small organization that promotes peace and dialogue between the people of Gaza and the people of Sderot (http://www.othervoice.org/). Instead of encouraging an escalation of violence, The Other Voice has been attempting to heal wounds on both sides of the border by sharing experiences of war and terror, of humanity and hope. On January 8, 2009, Nomika published a very powerful article, "Not in my Name," that publicly expressed this other voice during Operation Cast Lead: "The current blood bath in Gaza is not in my name and not for my security. Destroyed homes, bombed schools, thousands of new refugees–are not in my name and not for my security." Nomika received support from everywhere and another voice was heard! Nomika's full article can be accessed at the following address: http://villagesgroup.wordpress.com/2009/01/11/a-sderot-woman-speaks-out-against-gaza-war/.

We continued our trip to Kibbutz Zikim, this time on the Northern border of Gaza. There too, the stress and fear was part of people's daily life for years during the second Intifada. Like in Sderot, the entire town is equipped with anti-rockets shelters: shelters attached to each single house, shelters at bus stops, shelters built over houses (like in the case of the school buildings at Zikim), shelters on playgrounds, etc.

This certainly gives a new meaning to the expression, "sheltered life;" here, it has nothing to do with a protected and comfortable life, but rather indicates the need for more security. However, Zikim has also found some alternative means to deal with fear and stress: at one end of the Kibbutz stands a surprising Hanukkah Menorah made of Qassam rockets. As it is written in the Prophet Isaiah:

"He will judge between the nations
and will settle disputes for many peoples.
They will beat their swords into plowshares
and their spears into pruning hooks.
Nation will not take up sword against nation,
nor will they train for war anymore." (2:4 NRV)
And the Menorah will be lit every Hanukkah!

The landscape of settlements

2010-02-14T03:30:00.001-08:00

We were sitting outside on the terrace, enjoying the warm weather; Maryam and her sister made fresh bread for us (picture by Ingrid). We ate it with olive oil and herbs; it was delicious bread. We were chatting with Maryam and her sister, they told us a little bit about their lives in the Jahalin village. If you do not look around you, the picture is idyllic. However, the landscape around the house is not as pretty a picture. On one side of the house, the Palestinian Authority is building a road that will become one of the main arteries of the West Bank with two lanes in each direction. The construction site is so close to Maryam’s house that it actually took some of her property. The noise and dust are terrible and the construction does not look near completion. The little land Maryam’s family received after being displaced from their original land is now being chopped away; she tells us that her herb garden is gone.

On the other side of the house, in the distance, you can see two major Israeli settlements, Ma’ale Adumim on the left, spreading its numerous tentacles on a beautiful hill; then Kedar on the right, also on a hill, much smaller at this point, but showing all signs of potential growth. Maryam pointed out to a few structures, caravans and other precarious habitations, laying out in the valley between the hills. She told us these are Bedouin families who have been displaced once already and are now asked to move again to vacate this strategic valley; both settlements will ideally become one. Yet, the alternative for these bedouin families is a toxic waste dump. Ma’ale Adumim is the largest settlement in the East part of Jerusalem. Israel has now established 12 settlements around Jerusalem on 17,600 acres of Palestinian land that was annexed in 1967. According to Ma’ale Adumim’s official website (http://www.jr.co.il/ma/), the population of the settlement had reached 34,500 inhabitants at the end of 2008; the ultimate goal is to reach 50,000. Kedar is its little child. Standing on Maryam’s terrace, the Israeli “master plan” for greater Jerusalem suddenly looks very real: it slowly swallows the hills of Southeast Jerusalem and these fortified towns are ready to destroy anything that stands in their way. How can you win with a simple tent?

Praying roadblock

2010-02-02T05:02:00.000-08:00

The Palestinian village of Silwan in East Jerusalem is located next to the archeological site of the City of David; this location has pretty much sealed its fate and some 90 houses in Silwan's neighborhood of Al-Bustan are marqued for demolition by the Municipality of Jerusalem. This is a very intricate and ideologically charged situation.

Silwan was annexed by Israel in 1967, like many other parts of greater East Jerusalem. What is happening to this village, however, is particular. The settlers’ organization, ELAD, runs the archeological site of the City of David. Initially discovered in 1867, the City of David has now become an ever-expanding archeological park. The official website explains its principles: “Following the Six Day War Jerusalem was united and the boundary erased. However, a Jewish presence was missing from the City of David. Towards the end of the seventies, archaeological excavations in the City of David began, and continued for several seasons, under the directorship of Professor Yigal Shiloh discoveries and greatly expanded our current understanding of the City of David. Throughout the years, additional excavations have taken place which enriched our knowledge about the City of David. In 1991 the first Jewish residents began to return to live in the City of David and today the area is a thriving Jewish community. The purpose of the ‘City of David Visitors Center’ is to bring as many people as possible to visit the area and to experience the place… where it all began” (http://www.cityofdavid.org.il/).

Despite the fact that these excavations threaten the streets of Silwan as well as the foundations of Al-Aqsa Mosque, the Israel Nature and Parks Authority has authorized ELAD to run the site and pursue its goals. As such this archaeological project is part of a broader ideology that promotes the Judaization of Jerusalem through various means, such as settlements, house demolitions, unfair budgetary distributions, and the construction of the Barrier. Silwan is caught in the eye of the storm.

Several groups are trying to draw attention to this situation. One of them is Emek Shaveh, a non-profit association of archaeologists who offer alternative tours to the City of David in order to interrogate ideological uses of archaeological findings (http://www.alt-arch.org/). And of course, the people of Silwan themselves are getting organized and every Friday gather in the street in sign of protest. However, there is no shouting, no violence; they have chosen to protest by praying in the middle of the road. Such a gesture is highly symbolic in a country where the army installs roadblocks made of giant concrete blocks to prevent Palestinians from getting around in their daily life. These men pray and force people to stop and look at them.

The streets of Hebron

2010-01-27T00:16:00.000-08:00

Last Sunday afternoon I spent a few hours walking in Hebron's Old City with my colleagues who are based there. The stories of the market streets of Hebron have often been told: settlers living above Palestinians, constant presence of the Israeli army, checkpoints and roadblocks, and daily signs of violence. When you walk there, you are in a war zone!

A little bit of historical background:
"Since the 16th century there was a Jewish community in Hebron, living side by side with the Palestinians. In August 1929, during the British mandate period, 67 of the city’s Jewish population were massacred. The British police evacuated the surviving Jewish population. After the war of 1948, Hebron came under Jordanian rule which lasted until the war of 1967 when Hebron was occupied by the Israeli army" (http://www.tiph.org/).

More than anywhere else, the visitor understands what occupation means and discovers its multi-layered reality. In this system, the army and the settlers both participate in the same power structure, a specificity of the situation in Israel/Palestine. And it is difficult to fathom the humilation imposed on the Palestinians on top of the regular controls and arrests: "over the years, settlers in the city have routinely abused the city's Palestinian residents, sometimes using extreme violence. Throughout the second intifada, settlers have committed physical assaults, including beatings, at times with clubs, stone throwing, and hurling of refuse, sand, water, chlorine, and empty bottles. Settlers have destroyed shops and doors, committed thefts, and chopped down fruit trees. Settlers have also been involved in gunfire, attempts to run people over, poisoning of a water well, breaking into homes, spilling of hot liquid on the face of a Palestinian, and the killing of a young Palestinian girl" (http://www.btselem.org/).

When you walk in the streets of Hebron, detritus of all kinds rest above your head, in suspension, making visible the cage in which you are trapped. There seems then to be no solution to the problem; just a very poor attempt at managing it.

B(u)y the wall

2010-01-25T09:07:00.000-08:00

Since yesterday and until tomorrow, I am in Hebron for what is called a "PV" or "Placement Visit" for the non initiated. Twice during the program, we are visiting other EAPPI sites. Hebron is my first visit outside Jerusalem. I had a chance to walk around the old city and the market streets yesterday; the grids above your head are real and maybe more than anything else tell a terrible story of violence and ignorance. I willl post pictures later and write more about Hebron.

Today the weather is freezing; rain and wind made it impossible for us to venture outside. So, I'm reading the news on an Israeli site (http://www.ynetnews.com/)
and I come across a rather astonishing link, Buy the Wall, that sells pieces of the Israel/Palestine Separation Barrier: http://www.buythewall.com/. The premisse of the site is that the "wall" is temporary as Israel declared when it started its construction and, once dismantled, it will be a hot item on the market! So, buy it now and secure your investment!

The Separation Barrier was approved by the government of Israel in June 2002 with the explicit purpose of controlling Palestinians entering Israel. However, according to the Israeli Human Rights organization, B'Tselem, "in setting the Barrier's route, Israeli officials almost totally ignored the severe infringement of Palestinian human rights. The route was based on extraneous considerations completely unrelated to the security of Israeli citizens. A major aim in setting the route was de facto annexation of land: when the Barrier is completed, some nine percent of the West Bank, containing 60 settlements, will be situated on the western – the 'Israeli' – side. Another reason for building the Barrier inside the West Bank was to avoid the political price to be paid if the Green Line were set as Israel's border" (http://www.btselem.org/).

Today, approximately 60% of the 740km of the Barrier have been built. The consequences on Palestinians' daily life is dramatic whereas most Israelis will never even see it. Standig by the wall, a feeling of oppression overcomes you. If only the promise of a good sale was also a promise for new unbroken horizons.

Going to the museum

2010-01-23T07:35:00.000-08:00

Thursday evening (January 21), my team went to the opening night of a new exhibit at the Museum on the Seam (http://www.mots.org.il/Eng/) in Jerusalem. The name of this museum comes from the fact that the building stands right on the Green Line that used to divide Jerusalem until 1967. This location is highly symbolic: standing on the divide, the museum seeks to bridge the gap that separates cultures and people in Palestine/Israel. Its mission statement begins with the following paragraph:

"The Museum on the Seam is a socio-political contemporary art museum located in Jerusalem. The Museum in its unique way, presents art as a language with no boundaries in order to raise controversial social issues for public discussion. At the center of the changing exhibitions in the Museum stand the national, ethnic and economic seam lines in their local and universal contexts."

The current exhibit, HomeLessHome, is fascinating, raising unexpected issues regarding the occupation and its impact on the populations. The opening night was crowded, primarily with Israelis who were definitevly willing to face the hidden side of their polical and social reality.

Leaving the building and its beautiful setting, I tried to understand the role of art in this context. Sometimes, art represents a means of bringing a far-away reality to viewers who cannot access it otherwise; here, the reality is just on the other side of the street. In this case then, the exhibit seems to bring viewers to a reality they can observe only through aesthetic forms. What is the function of art in this case? A veil or a revelation?

Time flies

2010-01-18T09:43:00.001-08:00

The days are going by fast and we don't have much time to take care of our blogs and other personal writing projects. It is going to be a challenge to keep up with everything. Yesterday and this morning, our team spent time organizing the next 3 months; it will help find time to write. I definitively need to document my recent activities; I am taking a few days off at the end of January to visit more places in Jerusalem, go to Bethlehem, and catch up! In the meantime, I want to share two of the most sacred sites of the Old City: the Wailing Wall and the Al-Aqsa Mosque.

Crossing the plaza of the Wailing Wall seems truly unreal. How many times have I seen pictures of it? And suddenly, I am here walking on this vast square, watching the men praying on one side, the women and children on the other, all of them following a ritual that I can only observe without being part of it. And yet, somehow, I feel part of it!

Walking on the ground of the Al-Aqsa Mosque and the Dome of the Rock is a unique experience as well. I have less images of it in my mind only its golden dome dominating the Old City of Jerusalem. I am there early on a Sunday morning when non Muslims are allowed to visit the plaza. Under the early sun, the colors of the dome are amazing. I am struck by the silence of this place and the incredible craftmanship; I cover my head.

One thing to remember however: no one can access these sites without Israeli control, the army screens everyone and forces each visitor through metal detectors. It is hard, after all, to ignore the signs of division and military power.

Standing with them

2010-01-09T08:31:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, my team crossed over to West Jerusalem to support Israeli activists in their peace efforts. We started by holding a vigil with the Israeli group of Women in Black. Every Friday from 1pm to 2pm, a small group of women stand silent in protest of the occupation at Perez Square, a very busy intersection in the middle of West Jerusalem. We stood next to them and for an entire hour heard shouting and screaming! The level of agressvity is high enough that the police comes every Friday to protect them. My admiration went to them right away: these (now) old ladies hold a vigil there every week, answering questions to anyone who wants to dialogue with them, but never shouting back! Yesterday was the actual anniversary of their movement: 22 years! And as one of them said, "we hope we won't celebrate our 23rd anniversary."

Directly after that, we joined the Friday march that goes from West Jerusalem to Sheikh Jarrah, the famous Palestinian neighborhood destined to demolition and/or taken over by settlers. It was very moving to walk with a young crowd of Israeli protesting the occupation; very hopeful. However, it is hard to ignore that the march can happen only under the strict protection of both the army and the police. Furthermore, the Plaestinian homes and inhabitants of Sheikh Jarrah are in a very precarious situation; our team of EAs may well witness a series of house demolitions in the next months and/or see settlers move in.

Getting to know the neighbors

2010-01-05T13:05:00.000-08:00

First day in the field. As of today and for the next couple of days, each team of EAs (Ecumenical Accompaniers) is undergoing a "handover" period--a ton of information to assimilate and a lot of miles to walk! My team, aka "the new Jerusalem team," visited this afternoon the Palestinian neighborhood of Silwan. Divided into two areas (Al Bustan & Wadi Hilweh), Silwan lies in the shadow of the Dome of the Rock and the archaeological site of the City of David. This symbolic location seals the fate of this area: Silwan is a highly disputed land, fought over, (re)claimed by many. Palestinians houses are marked for demolition! Standing under the tent of those who have already lost their roof, how can we understand the meaning of resistance?

I have landed...

2010-01-03T12:18:00.000-08:00

Yesterday evening, I landed in Tel Aviv, at 5:15pm local time. A long trip, all the way from Salt Lake City: approximately 12'900 km or 8'000 miles. Here more than anywhere else, the verb "to land" is charged with many layers of meaning, all entangled and hard to sort out; in this region, every bit of history has something to do with the land, its ownership, its borders, and its sites. I toured some parts of Jerusalem this afternoon, from East to West and back; the contrasts are striking. Many images in my head after just one day, I cannot fathom how many I will store in the next three months. No picture taken though, not yet.

East Jerusalem

2009-12-29T10:24:00.000-08:00

Last week, I learned that I would be in East Jerusalem for the duration of my work as an EA. I am very excited about this prospect and I am looking forward to discovering this city, on both sides. The team of EAs in Jerusalem has several tasks: 1) monitor house demolitions and evacuations in Palestinian neighborhoods, 2) visit Palestinian communities on the West Bank (in particular, several Bedouin villages, refugee camps, and the city of Ramallah), 3) participate in the life of various Christian Churches in East Jerusalem, many who are Arabic speaking, 4) support and collaborate with Israeli human rights and peace groups, and 5) accompany Palestinians as they go through the four checkpoints they are required to use between Jerusalem and the West Bank. Our team is composed of four members, coming form four different countries: me as a Swiss who lives in the U.S., a Swedish woman, an Irish man, and a Norwegian man. I will tell you more about them when I meet them. Taking off this coming Friday at 3pm MST!

Transition

2009-12-20T13:23:00.000-08:00

The end of the year, getting ready to leave to go to Israel/Palestine as soon as the New Year starts! It will be my first trip to the Middle East and I will stay there for 3 months participating in an international program sponsored by the World Council of Churches: http://www.eappi-us.org/ or http://www.eappi.org.

As an Ecumenical Accompanier, I will be part of a large community of international observers constantly present in Israel/Palestine who bear witness to the conditions under which civilians live. This blog will be my blackboard to share what I see, what I hear, what I experience.