Travel Log #29

February 17, 2010
The level of professional unreliability in this country is absolutely ridiculous. There is absolutely no inkling of a service ethic. As I think I mentioned in a previous entry, our lamp exploded a few days ago and we need an electrician as the internal wires in the ceiling got fried...or something like that. The landlord actually showed up, as promised, around 8:00am this morning, checked to see if it was actually broken (yes, there's a new bulb in there), says he'll be back "soon/fifteen minutes" and leaves. Two hours later, he still hasn't shown up! We'll see how long it takes now that's I've complained.

Anyhow, what is much more interesting than trivial (but necessary) everyday crap, is the field trip I went on last week with my fifth graders, to a nearby Arab village called סכנין (Sach'nin). A few days ago, I attended a mandatory five-day seminar with OTZMA that focused specifically on the Arab/Israel conflict. we were exposed to as many people on extreme ends of the political spectrum as is possible in five days--from Right Wing settlers invoking 3,000 year histories to bleeding heart liberals like Rabbis for Human Rights. We also met with Palestinians in the disputed territories. It was good exposure and I don't think it leaned specifically towards one end of the spectrum more than another. The one improvement that I would suggest is, perhaps some representatives of mainstream Israel--somewhere in the middle.

The effect on me was rather depressing: this is the never-ending conflict. "A good one to go into," someone told me. It will never be solved and everyone is right and everyone is wrong and the average person becomes nothing but a pawn in the power game played by those in power. We are all, inescapably , gears within the Machine. I left the seminar with more cynicism than ever, and with more hopelessness. As of now, I am not completely devoid of hope, but I know that I am powerless and that words work to poison, not to heal. "Diplomacy is a kind illusion, nothing more," I thought, "and goodwill works to stall, not to progress, when it comes to the Language of Peace and Civility".

We visited an Arab "village" called סוסיה (Susya), which is right across the street from Jewish סוסיה. Arab סוסיה would better be described as a tent encampment than a village. The people live in semi-permanent tents on land that used to be used solely for farming. This family has lived on this particular plot of land for centuries. About a decade ago, the land they used for living, directly across the street, was declared an "archaeological site" by the Israeli government, so all of the residents were evicted, with no other place to go. They were also denied building permits. Hence the semi-permanent tents. Tents are less likely to be bulldozed for illegality and are not as much of a loss as are buildings if they do happen to be destroyed.

The biggest injustice in all of this is the fact that soon after the Palestinians were kicked off their land, a Jewish outpost (illegal settlement according to the Israeli government, aka no building permits) was started on the site and remains there. The difference between an outpost and a settlement in Israel's vocabulary is "building permit or not". Outposts are unrecognized by the government, receive no services, and are privy to being torn down--and are--much like the illegal Palestinian outposts. The difference is that Jewish construction is not in as much danger as Palestinian.

Ironically, the Palestinian outpost is a mixture of absolute decrepitude and cutting-edge technology: Israeli human rights groups work hard. The outpost is equipped with windmills and solar panels and the residents have pretty cell phones. Alongside this is the outhouse. And the goats.

Our guide, and resident of Arab Susya, stood silently and answered questions. He declared that the Palestinian Authority doesn't care about the everyday people. The leaders are all corrupt and on personal power trips, he said. "So this is what we have to live with." Because neither government, Israeli nor PA, has any real concern invested in the populace.
February 18, 2010
The average Israeli (at least those to whom I have spoken) all have a common reaction if the situation of the Palestinians is brought up: "How can they live like this?" and because they are powerless to do anything--to affect any real change, they shove the thoughts to the back of their minds as much as possible. The everyday news makes this difficult. But there's always "Big Brother" as salvation.

Millions of dollars in aid, from Israeli tax dollars and funds from abroad hardly make it to their goal of the Palestinian populace. Instead, they are redirected to weaponry or to private accounts. The private accounts are often located outside of the Middle East and make people like Mrs. Arafat very comfortable in France.

March 5, 2010
After all was said and done with the seminar, after we'd seen the sites of East Jerusalem and had that situation explained in a whole new light, I was more confused and more speechless and more pessimistic than ever. If we take a look at East Jerusalem, it seems pretty much like South Main, Worcester. AKA A shit hole. But the reasons for this are different from Worcester, in general. Garbage is all over the place. Buildings are run-down and scarce. But we have to ask why. Residents of East Jerusalem, specifically Arab residents have full voting power in municipal elections but only about 5% of them vote; the other 95% do not vote as a protest against the State of Israel. This ends up with the Arab population shooting itself in the foot. With no representatives to vie for them, budgets are allocated elsewhere. So, there is minimal bussing, minimal garbage collection, minimal municipal services in general because they don't vote themselves a representative. West Jerusalem is mainly Jewish and if you ask most Israelis, they want a united Jerusalem but haven't ever stepped anywhere near East Jerusalem, unless we're talking about the all-Jewish neighborhood of Talpiot.

Needless to say, this is all a part of why I left the seminar in the state I did. But the field trip to סכנין came just in time, four days later, to give me a very small, but renewed sense of hope. All year, the fifth graders at my school in Yokneam and the fifth graders at the school in סכנין have been learning about each others' cultures, languages, human and civil rights, and citizenship. Of course, the residents of סכנין are full Israeli citizens; a minority and discriminated against, but have full rights on paper. It's the story of any minority in any country--almost. What I saw here was wonderful if not very realistic in the big picture. The children played with each other, laughed, cried, exchanged words in Hebrew and Arabic, exchanged phone numbers. Perhaps one friendship will sustain itself in face of the pressures and prejudices against it from both sides.

In a few weeks the Arab children come to visit Dalyiot, the school we teach at. If more people would work to promote such meetings, perhaps there could really be change. Children are good at picking up similarities and working through differences. But I cant ignore the fact that some of the adults working on this day were against it and only there because of an order from a superior.

I had a great time. The food was amazing and our hosts kept heaping my plate with more and more food. I ended up having my picture taken during one of these heapings without noticing and it ended up in the local newspaper. Some people were excited. Others were not: "I saw your picture in the newspaper. You were doing something with a school. With Arabs," the word spat out like poison. So, I was simultaneously impressed by humanity and disappointed. But everything swings back and forth into a grey area, particularly regarding this conflict. Hence its perpetuation. I suppose all we can do is what we've always done (if we have): just hope.