My first sand storm

Today there was a sand storm here. We had to shut all the windows and turn on the AC (score!!). It was EXTREMELY windy, and I got to practice shouting "Shu ah howa?!?!" (what is this wind!!?).

After the beach on Sunday, Jiries and I went to another Greek Orthodox baptism. The godmother, who is one of the most important people in the ceremony, was half an hour late. The mother of the baby was screaming and crying and when the godmother finally showed up the mother refused to let her in the church. During church services and other ceremonies such as the baptism, it is totally okay for people to talk as loud as they want, and even interrupt the priest. Children run around without supervision and its totally cool because everyone there is one big family and they all take care of each other's kids. I have a newfound appreciation for huge families... it is the greatest joy in life for the people here. Tata Huda sees 3 out of 4 of her daughters and 2 out of 3 of her sons pretty much every single day and she loves it. Someone is always pregnant, a baby is baptized every week, and there are family get-togethers to celebrate another baby's first teeth.


Tata Hudaaaa!

After the baptism Jiries and I headed over to Nermeen's for her 18th birthday party. Her dad is still in the US because he has work, and it is customary for a woman to stay with her husband's family when she visits so they are all staying with her father's parents across town.

I need to wrap this up soon because it is way past my bedtime... yesterday was my first day of work at Tata Huda's senior citizens' home. The all-women staff definitely think I am a fool. They shout "Allison, yalla yalla!!!" (come on, lets go) and then glance up and down and me and declare, "Halas (finished). Enough. Go," and shoo me away. Other than that I just pass out tea at tea time and food at lunchtime. I went again today, it was more exciting because we played Arabic Bingo. Tata Huda and I hop on the bus at 8 am and Jiries picks us up around 12:30. It costs 2 sheikels each to take the bus- sheikels (maybe it is spelled sheckles) are the [Israeli] currency they use here. The coins have menorahs on them and the bills have pictures of famous Israelis. One US dollar is the equivalent of about 3.75 sheikels.

Yesterday after Tata Huda's "university," Jiries and I swung by the University of Bethlehem to pay tuition for one of the girls in the First Congregational Church of Old Lyme's Bridges of Hope Program. Her family is very poor, but thanks to the FCCOL she has been able to attend the university for the last few years and she has received honors every semester. The Bridges of Hope Program has allowed for at least 10 Palestinian kids to go to the University of Bethlehem who otherwise would have not been able to afford it, 4 of which have graduated and the rest are there now. On the way home Jiries took me through the Old City of Bethlehem, and we stopped at a store where I picked up some Arabic workbooks so I can learn how to write. The store was situated in an old stone manger.... hmmm.




Uploading pictures is frustratingly slow, so now that I have some free time I will put up ones that I didn't get around to before.


This is the separation barrier between the West Bank and the Israeli bypass road. Israelis have access to freshly paved roads that run parallel to dirt roads on the Palestinian side. SInce Jiries has a US passport we are able to drive on both.


Women use to work all day grinding wheat in this.


This is a typical house, usually many branches/generations from one family all live in the same building, and each immediate family has its own floor. This isn't always the case though, and sometimes more than one of 2 families (with at least 5 kids) are smushed together on the same floor. The situation is much worse in East Jerusalem, where many Arabs live. Since Israel has control over Jerusalem, it almost always denies the Palestinians the building permits that they apply for so they can construct another house for their family. So instead, they add another floor onto their house, building up instead of out and reminaing tightly crowded.


Palestinian checkpoint- as far as I know this really doesn't serve a purpose besides to project the idea that the Palestinian Authority has some some degree of control over its territory. We stopped to chat with one of the guards and he told me no pictures...whoops


This sign a giant obstacle for those Israelis who are seeking a peaceful resolution.

"It takes a big man to ride a small camel"

-Micah Todd

Yesterday Jiries and I went to the beach in Israel, about 1 kilometer away from Gaza. It took us around an hour and a half to get there but it was completely worth it. The water was warm, the sand white, and it didn't become crowded until the late afternoon. The only downside was that the jellyfish were about the size of my head- there is a picture of one in the previous post, but they look a LOT bigger in the water than they do on the sand. I've never seen a baby blue jellyfish before, and definitely none that large. Every time I went swimming Jiries said, "Don't get bit by the jellyfish! I would hate to call your mother and tell her the news that you had been eaten by a giant jellyfish in the Mediterranean!"

In my previous blog entry I posted a picture of (besides me making a creepy face) a fully clothed Bedouin woman in the sea with her child. The Bedouins are nomadic Arab tribes who have existed, as Jiries puts it, since the beginning of the world. Not all of the tribes are nomadic today, however, and many have established villages that consist of homes made from cement and/or tents. There are around 60 unrecognized Bedouin villages inside of Israel- they are unrecognized because Israel does not acknowledge their inhabitants as citzens of Israel, so they are denied any basic rights, including access to water and electricity. Israel has undertaken a huge project of relocating all of the Bedouins into one area where they can control them, but there has been strong resistance from many of the villages. Consequently, all uncooperative Bedouins have demolition notices on their home. On the Tree of Life Journey we visited a couple unrecognized villages, and one in particular where we saw first hand the remains of a demolished house a woman had once lived in with her mentally disabled sons.

Anyways, the woman in the water with only her eyes showing is a Bedouin woman who lives in Israel. If she did not live in Israel, she wouldn't have been there, because Palestinians from the West Bank and (especially) Gaza are not allowed to cross the barrier unless they have a special work permit, medical reason, or it is Christmas time. Wednesday we are going to get Tata Huda a permit application for medical reasons because she really wants to visit Jerusalem. As I mentioned in another entry, the Christians (not Muslims) are allowed into Jerusalem around Christmas time- Jiries told me yesterday that if you go to Jerusalem then, however, you won't find any Palestinians at church because they are all out shopping.

When they asked what I had done earlier in the day I felt horrible telling my new Palestinian friends I had been at the beach because it's a place that they will never be allowed to go unless something drastically changes. It is mind boggling to think that kids my age here have lived their entire lives under occupation, and they have never seen the country that has only brought them suffering and oppression. The beach was absolutely beautiful, imagine a nice tropical resort area with shops and cafes next to the massive locker rooms for showering and changing. There were even showers every 50 feet on the beach itself coming out of the sand. These showers were conveinent for everyone under the blazing sun, and therefore were in constant use. All I could think about was the water shortage here in Beit Sahour, and how people are so cautious not to waste a drop.

On the way home from the beach we took a different road than we did on the way there and we passed what was once the Palestinian village Beit Jeebreen. It was a large hill with stones from demolished houses scattered here and there, but mostly overgrown. You could hardly tell it was once a village except for all the rows of cactus, which Jiries said used to demarcate property lines. It is really sad that Israel demolished all those homes in the first place, and even more sad that they are not using the land for anything at all.

After the beach we went to another baptism, and drama ensued. I will write about it tomorrow.



Not only does Jiries go to church frequently, he participates as much as possible (he is standing in the back- this message is for any of the TOL members who ever doubted him)

Woah

Day at the beach:


Jellyfish the size of a bowling ball


...And I thought I was uncomfortably warm

"Your passport is more important than your wife"

-Jiries Atrash

Today I learned how to say the days of the week in Arabic, and a bunch of verbs and nouns like refrigerator, to run, to walk, etc. Lots of Jiries' family members came and went throughout the day, stopping by to say hi and/or have some coffee (qafwey). In the afternoon Jiries and I went to a travel agency to meet with his niece Jane as well as George (the principal from the Shepherd's Field Greek Orthodox school in Bethlehem) and his daughter, and Jiries helped them fill out visa forms so they can come to the US for the Tree of Life Conference in November. It was quite a production. The encounter verified two observations I have come across; the first is that just because everyone is shouting at each other does not mean they are actually mad, that is how normal conversations are held. The second is that women here are bosssssy! As every dialogue progressively gets faster and louder, it is always the female who has the final word, and then man who backs down (sorry Jiries, it's true). Jiries told me a joke the other day that really summed it up: here, outside the home men act like they are the boss, but inside the home they are only a chicken. This is keeping in mind that I am living in a predominantly Christian town. Beit Sahour, Bethlehem, and nearby Beit Jala are the three Christian towns in Palestine, and they are known as the "Christian triangle", or trinity.

After the travel agency Jiries and I talked about the difficulties that Palestinians have when it comes to traveling. It is virtually impossible for them to move freely between cities, let alone countries. The people of my generation, Jiries pointed out, are antsy to leave this town with its old customs and traditions, and explore the world to meet new people and see other places. Because of the travel restriction they can't do that, so they just go nuts here (I know I would). That isn't just problematic for young people, however, and in order to go through the apartheid wall Palestinians need a special permit that is only given for specific reasons. Next week Jiries wants to bring me and Tata Huda to some places in Israel, but Tata Huda does not have a permit so on Monday we are going to the Israeli military office to apply for one. Jiries said whether or not her permit application will be accepted literally depends on the mood of the officer deciding. While we are there she will be picking up some medicine, so the special reason that will be on her application is medical necessity.


We also stopped by the Original Heritage Association for Women Center, where Jiries purchased some olives, olive oil, and various kinds of jam, all made by local women to raise money for female-oriented initiatives. I would love to provide examples but the pamphlet I received is in Arabic (I'm not that good yet). The center is in one of the homes in the Old City of Beit Jala, which has walls made of massive rocks and some mystery dirt that keep them all together.

The woman who showed us around was very friendly (I think, I suppose she could have been saying anything because I really couldn't understand any of it) and my Arabic was shameful. BUT, I am getting much better every day and people don't laugh at me as much when I try to have small conversations. Laughing at me is strictly reserved for Tuesday and Friday nights when I have volleyball games.

Speaking of which, I had my first one last night and Jiries took a few pictures. I did ok if you are wondering... I only knocked the ball out of the park once.

Getting ready enthusiastically!


Nermeen played too (sort of)!


If you look at the left side of the net, you can see a giant man about to smash the ball into me in the pink clothes with my unsure arms up maybe ready to block, not the ball but my face from being crushed...... The game got pretty intense.

I didn't know until yesterday, but Jiries' official position in the Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) under Yasser Arafat was the equivalent of the US President's Chief of Staff. Before that he was a Palestinian ambassador in the US, Brazil, and Chile (where he met his wife- she was there for journalism work). We went out to get pizza for dinner, which is where Jiries told me all about the importance of carrying identification at all times. I noticed his passport in his shirt pocket and asked if he brings it with him everywhere. He said that if Israeli soldiers come into the area (which they do frequently) they can ask anyone to show ID at any time, and if someone can't produce it then they are subject to detainment without reason for up to 6 months. Often times that 6 months is extended another 6 months, also for no reason. Jiries said approximately 5,000 Palestinians are currently in Israeli prisons without any charges. "For this reason," he said, "your passport is more important than your wife."

Oh yeah, I know I told the TOL people at the reunion that Jiries and I were planning on going to Be'er Sheva today to see Amal and her school, but she rescheduled for tomorrow, then called today and rescheduled again for Tuesday probably.

Tomorrow, Jiries and I are going to the beach at the Mediterranean Sea in Israel. Jiries went to undergrad and grad school in the US and then continued to live there in Colorado and Ohio, so he has a US passport and therefore can go into Israel when he wants and also has a yellow license plate like the Israelis- Palestinians have white license plates. Monday I am working at the "university" (Tata Huda's senior citizens center) and on Tuesday or Wednesday depending on when Amal can meet, Jiries is taking me along him him and his niece and nephew (Nermeen and Loai) to the Dead Sea, where we will float around then climb up a mountain and swim in lakes along the way. Hooray!!

I have been learning a lot about the water issues here; get excited for an entire blog post devoted to meya (water) soon that will make you never take it for granted again.

"I'm just here for the food"

-Loai Qumseya





Tonight Jiries had food and hookah ("I did not inhale") from Bombay Burger DELIVERED to his house, and a bunch of the cousins came over and we ate and drank the night away under the grape vines outside. The food was good and the company was even better. I am exhausted.




Jiries singing, "shake your booooooty...!"



Earlier today: these are some pictures from around the house I am staying in (Beit Halaway).


Pomegrate tree in the yard


Barbeque site...so nice


The stairways to the front door from underneath the grape vines


Not quite ripe yet


Jiries' house


The "supermarket" next door


These trucks drive by all the time, if you look closely (click on the picture to enlarge it) you can see the bed is filled with watermelons. Either the guy driving or his passanger projects constant monotone adertisements over a loudspeaker in attempt to lure people out of their homes to buy whatever they are selling. I was really confused by this at first until I saw the groceries in back.


This is where we hang out when Jiries' family comes over to barbeque. It is a relief from the heat because the grape vines provide shade from the sun.

"Here, God dries our clothes"

Today, I learned how to say 1 through 10 in Arabic. I also learned the names of many colors, and some useful household terms; however, the most important word I have learned so far is shob (sh-ohb), which means hot. Shob, shob, shob. Very shob. Around 100 degrees Farenheit. So shob that today Jiries, Tata Huda and I didn't leave the house until 5:30 to attend a Greek Orthodox baptism that began at 6. I took the time during the day to practice my Arabic while sitting under the ceiling fan. Jiries and I had more of his zakey (delicious) home-made stuffed zucchini, which is packed with rice and hamburger-ish meat, and he told me about the town of Beit Sahour and Christians in Palestine. Out of 13,000 inhabitants only about 2,000 are Muslim, and the rest are Christian. During the Christian holidays, Israel lets the Christians into Jerusalem, but not Muslims. The Christians in Palestine have a unique identity that seems to lie somewhere inbetween the Jewish Israelis and the Muslim Palestinians.


The view from Jiries' apartment building, Ruth Suites, at the top of the driveway looking to the right (his house is behind the apartments, I will take a picture of it tomorrow)

At 6 we attended the baptism of Jiries' cousin in a nearby Orthodox church that Tata Huda normally attends on Sundays. It was a cheerful occasion and Tata Huda prodded me to take a plethora of pictures to the point that I was practically a part of the baptism itself. I am definitely in the background of all the professional pictures that were taken.

See that look of apprehension? He knows whats coming...



Abunah Issa from the Shepherd's Field Greek Orthodox School in Bethlehem performing the baptism

The baby was really cute even though he cried quite a bit after his quick bath. He fell asleep on his father's shoulder during the ceremony itself, and at the end he was swiftly handed off to one of the nearby nuns so the father could stand with the rest of the family by the doorway to receive everyone's congratulations. Right now it is 12:30 at night, I still have jetlag I think, but Jiries never sleeps because he is always checking the water tank levels to make sure the water is at a good level and is still running, so we are sitting outside on our laptops, and next door there is a baby crying- Jiries said it is the baby who was baptized today. Small town.


Tata (pronouced tay-tay) Huda


Jiries' brother Isam with his grandson

A little while after the baptism, Jiries and I took off to meet some of his wife's friends in West Jerusalem. At this point I had no idea that there was a [Jewish] demonstration there earlier in the day (the news is in Arabic!), but don't worry Mom/Dad/David/Carleen/everyone, it was long over by the time we got there. Jiries made sure to wait until it over before we traveled there.


Street scene


On the way to Jerusalem, we stopped to fill up The Tank. No, I don't mean the gas tank, I mean Jiries' car, which is formally known as "The Tank"- fun fact: the Tank was born the same year I was.


Bethlehem

On the way, we had to cross the checkpoint between Bethlehem and Jerusalem. Israel instated a new law about a month ago that everyone riding in a car except for the driver has to get out of the vehicle and cross the border by foot. After waiting over a half an hour in a line of cars, we reached the checkpoint, and I was told to get out and walk across and follow the people ahead of me. Once I got through the small passage in the giant concrete wall that segregates the Israelis from the Palestinians, I had to follow the people ahead of me into a building which consisted of a maze of hallways and ramps with signs mostly in Hebrew, then through a turnstile, a metal detector, a station with a questioning Israeli solider, another turnstile with another questioning soldier (although when I flashed my American passport they waved me through), a few more hallways, and then finally an exit. The guy who was in front of me had a Canadian passport, but his skin was dark and he looked like an Arab, and for this reason he let me go ahead of him because he said he is usually held up and questioned extensively.


The checkpoint where we waited in line for 35 minutes to get into Jerusalem


Checkpoint sign

Once we reached Jerusalem, we went to a nice roadside cafe where we met the friends of Jiries' wife Maureen. Johan is an Israeli who is a professor at Georgia State in Atlanta, and he teaches courses such as "Through the Looking Glass: Conceptions and Misperceptions about the Israeli/Palestinian Situation" and "Israeli/Palestinian Peacemongers". Jan used to be a reporter for the Jerusalem Report. They were wonderful and interesting people, and even though our conversation was a bit depressing at some points I am grateful for the opportunity to hear all different voices of conscience. We also met a very nice family (I'm sorry if you are reading this I completely forgot your names!) who took a tour of Bethelehem and Beit Sahour over the last few days, and were very interested in what they had seen and learned.


Jan, Johan, and the family we met with for coffee, conversation, and delicious pastries at a cafe in West Jerusalem

On the way home at about 9:45 Jiries and I stopped for shawarma (!!!!!!!) at the Shewarma King. ZAKEY! Last thing: Jiries showed me how to use the washing machine today, and then he added, "We have a washing machine, but no dryer. See? We hang everything outside. Here, God dries our clothes."

Only day 2?

The view from the kitchen window:


Today I slept in until Jiries woke me up so we could go to Tata (grandmother) Huda's senior citizen home, which they jokingly refer to as "the university". As soon as we got there Jiries disappeared and I sat down at a table with Tata Huda and many other elderly women, who pointed at me and clearly interrogated Tata Huda about me, in Arabic of course. They asked me a million questions and then laughed when I was obviously clueless. When I tried out my weak Arabic they laughed even more, and then peer pressured me to eat even though I tried telling them I was beyond full already (pita with hummus and cucumber for late breakfast). I had some sort of rice with cucumbers and tomato salad. I met with the women who run the "university" and starting Friday I will be going in with Huda on the 8 am bus and hanging out with her there and helping the staff prepare lunch and other tasks.

Later in the day Tata Huda, Jiries and I picked up Jiries' sister's kids, Nermeen and Loai, who live in San Diego but will be staying here for the next 2 months. They both speak English so they helped me with my Arabic and occasionally translated, and Nermeen is just a few years younger than me. The four of us then when to the Tree of Nations!! For those of you who went on the Tree of Life Journey, you know how exciting this is!


The Tent of Nations is Palestinian property owned by the family of a man named Daoud Nasser, and the Israeli settlers are trying to take the land from him so they can expand their illegal settlements. Daoud has invited people from all over the world to come and plant olive trees in the Tree of Life orchard, and learn about the history of the land. News on the demolition orders (which the Israeli army- the IDF- recently delivered) is that the Israeli army has 2 months to explain why they feel it is necessary to bulldoze the structures on the Tent of Nations land.


From left to right: Daher, Nermeen, Loai, Tata Houda, me

Unfortunately Daoud was not there, but his brother Daher was. He showed us the cave that his grandfather had began digging with his bare hands in 1919 so his family could live in it. Daher also talked to us about the encroaching settlements on each side of the orchard, which were first established in 1991 and now one (out of the 4) already has 20,000 settlers living in it. Jiries and I checked on the olive trees we planted and they are looking great!!


After the cave, he let us ride one of the horses bare back! Remember the brown baby horse we saw right next to the olive orchard? I saw it today! It is still too small to ride so we went on the bigger (and meaner) one. I might be wrong but I think that was the first time I've ever ridden a horse (its funny to think I have been on a camel before a horse).


After we had tea (shy) and headed home. Jiries has been telling people that I am his daughter so no one will mess with me, and on the way home he stopped in a shop to pick up meat for a BBQ and they said to him, "So Jiries, we heard your daughter is visiting!" This is a small town and word travels fast. Its so small, in fact, that I've already seen at least 3 guys from the Palestinian dance team that we watched perform in the basement of the Paradise Hotel in Bethlehem. At night we had a BBQ at Jiries' house with his sister Niveen, her kids (Loai and Nermeen), Jiries' brother Isam, his wife, and his daughter Sahrouq. We went up to the rooftop of Jiries' apartment building and looking at the beautiful night skyline.


After we went to smoke some hookah (what the Tree of Life Journey kids know how to do best) at a restaurant that one of Jiries' nephews just opened up, called Bombay Burger. Don't worry Mom and Dad, hookah isn't anything illegal, it's just a water pipe and you inhale water vapor from flavored tabacco, but you are barely BARELY inhaling any tobacco. In this case, we got apple flavor, which in Arabic is said like "toofah", but when I was tested on it later in the night I accidently said "footah", which turns out to mean diaper. Needless to say, I didn't understand why everyone burst out laughing when I said that, but when someone could catch their breath long enough to tell me I was laughing too.

Now I am back home, and tomorrow Jiries and I are going to Jerusalem to meet up with his nieces (I think?) and maybe we are bringing them to the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem (or maybe not, I can't keep up). After we are attending a Greek Orthodox baptism in the afternoon. I am going to try to figure out how to post pictures now.

Nada- I read my first Arabic word today!!! At Bombay Burger I was looking at the all-Arabic menu, and then I realized one of the selections said "Kebab"!!!!!

Suzie- Remember when we were watching the Palestinian dance team and you jabbed me in the shoulder and told me to check out the tall hot one? I saw him tonight! The guys here don't look twice at me though because everyone thinks I am Jiries' daughter :) I am still tracking down your host family's info, don't worry.

More pictures:


Checkpoint?


The view from the Tent of Nations


The view on the other side of the Tent of Nations- the Israeli settlement that is trying to take Daoud's land


THe olive trees planted by the Tree of Life Journey members


Me with Tata Huda :)