journey to the other side

i have made two journeys into the west bank thus far.  the first was last week, on friday, to meet nora, a woman who volunteers at the ibdaa cultural center in dheishe refugee camp.  we were having a hard time connecting as she was involved in numerous activities for her friend's wedding, which in palestine spans three days.  i happened to get invited to the final party occurring on the third day.  because of the holy days (and therefore sporadic transportation), i hired a private palestinian taxi to take me from jerusalem into the west bank.  we bypassed the checkpoint (something that i didn't know was possible) by driving through beit jala, a suburb of sorts to bethlehem.  yazid, my driver, is an outgoing, energetic conversationalist who explained why we had to bypass our turnoff, which was blocked by a median, and do a u-turn in a dirt turnaround: the road turned into a bypass road to an israeli settlement and this was as far as palestinians were allowed to go.  i suppose the median was to prevent palestinians from bethlehem and dheishe from turning onto the bypass road.  the wall towered along the shoulder of the road that led in a direction we could not follow, and we passed through the outskirts of bethlehem.  soon we pulled into ibdaa and nora was there to greet me.  she introduced me to a slew of activists -- a woman from sweden, a film maker from berkeley, the head of the middle east children's coalition (who happens to be the person responsible for the cultural center being built), a woman who organizes delegations to the west bank, and the head of ibdaa itself.  at the wedding, i met an american jewish woman who disagrees with an israeli-only right to return policy and has created an organization called birthright unplugged, which runs programs that brings palestinian children into israel to visit their family's villages, which may have been destroyed or may have been taken over by israelis.  the children do not receive i.d. cards until they turn 16, so while adult palestinians do not have the freedom to come into israel, the children are able to do so.

as for the wedding itself, the final celebration was held in bethlehem and was for women only, along with josie and hazeed, the bride and groom; the men had a separate celebration.  the party basically consisted of excessively loud music and non-stop dancing, with older women wearing hijab lined the edges of the dance floor to watch the younger women, who danced the night away in a variety of fancy, hot dresses.  at one point, hazeed disappeared for some special ceremony with the men.  while yazid later explained this to me, i can't seem to recall the reason or ritual now.  later the men arrived, and the women scurried to cover their heads and wrap shawls over their bare shoulders.  josie and hazeed received the men and took photo

s with each of them.  next, the cake (which was fashioned in the style of an american wedding cake) was cut with a sword, ( which was more in the tradition of the arabs -- quite cool i might add).  when the festivities drew to a close, yazid returned to bring me back to jerusalem.  he wanted to hear all of the details of the evening and proceeded to tell me about his fiance, show me pictures of the traditional dress she will wear to her henna party, and invite me to his wedding, which will be held on july 26, sadly three days after i return to the u.s.

the next morning i returned to bethlehem with elizabeth (a woman engaged in middle east studies at a university in egypt) and charles (her dad).  this time we caught an arab bus (#124), which dropped us at the checkpoint.  a huge pink banner draped across the israeli side of the wall above the entry proclaimed a slogan about peace.  entering the checkpoint resembled entering a maximum security prison, with its steel doors, concrete floors, looming metal walls, and razor wire.  i pressed my passport up against the glass window of the booth in which the security guard sat and passed through the turn-style.  we then made our way out of the building and through a maze constructed of railings and fencing, eventually walking parallel to the wall, which was covered in political statements and graffiti.  at the bottom of the hill sat 

a fleet of taxis with swarms of palestinian men hoping to be hired to lead a four-hour tour of various sites for 100 shekels.  eventually we convinced one of them to simply take us to the old city of bethlehem.  still, he did his best to get us to change our minds as he pointed out various landmarks on our way into town.

we checked out a few holy sites, received a unexpected "tour" of the church of the nativity by an armenian priest who shared his experience of the 2002 siege in which the IDF surrounded the church for 40 days.  in another section of town we were invited to the roof of an olive wood shop to gain a different view of the city.  sawdust blanketed the staircase and saws and tools buzzed from with the shop.  from the top, we were afforded a wonderful view, though i mainly noticed the numerous water tanks perched on each rooftop.  i was reminded of mona's stories about needing to ration water due to the israelis controlling / cutting off the water supply to palestinians in the west bank.  

[mona is a palestinian and a physician living in denver who came in and shared her story with my students; her parents live in beit jala, and i'm hoping to meet them while i'm here.] i then ventured into the workshop and watched a handful of men hard at work, carving the very items that elisabeth and her dad were purchasing next door.

i parted ways with elizabeth and charles and caught a taxi to the hope flowers center.  they are located in a beautiful building (in a different location than the school itself) that is just about a year old.  the walls are stark and bare, and i wonder if this is due to their limited funding.  their enrollment fell dramatically after the second intifada.  no israeli children attend the school anymore, though efforts are underway to reinstate the joint programming.  when the sniper tower went up just down the hill from the school, several palestinian families withdrew their children out of fear for their safety.  the school is constantly battling the israeli government, which issued a demolition order for their cafeteria that stands too close to the separation wall that now slinks through the valley below the school (and which the israelis seem to forget they chose to build too close to the school).  after my visit, i walked back to bethlehem, a 30 minute journey that led me straight through the heart of the palestinian market, separate from the tourist shops of manger square.

when i got back to the old city, i was interested in finding someone to simply hang out with, so i kept my eye out for a friendly shop keeper who would fit the bill.  i spent nearly two hours with adnan (and his nephew alan, who has a shop a couple of doors down the street) discussing his life in bethlehem, the politics of the u.s. as they affect palestine, laughing at various random aspects of life, and discovering commonalities (we were born four months apart though we have had vastly different lives).  i eventually returned to jerusalem on bus #21, which passes through a checkpoint designed like a toll road in the states.  when we pulled up to the gate, an israeli soldier boarded the bus, collecting the i.d. cards of all the palestinians while simply examining my passport and handing it back to me.  she then exited the bus, and the driver pulled over to an island while we awaited clearance.  one of the palestinians stepped off the bus to smoke a cigarette; about 15 minutes later, he climbed back aboard, his hands filled with the i.d. cards.  the bus lurched forward as he and another man redistributed the cards to their rightful owners.  and so it goes...

after i made my way back to my hostel, i wandered out to daila, an israeli cafe serving as an activist / peace gathering place in the city center in west jerusalem.  it was quite a change from the muslim quarter of the old city, complete with a jazz trio with a guy wailing on a saxophone, a vegan meal, and a beer (i've had pretty much nothing but falafel since i arrived, though i must say it's the best falafel i've had in my life).  as i skimmed through their literature and composed a few emails, i eavesdropped on a few conversations.  here i was, sitting amidst left-swinging israelis who were involved in peace efforts and actions against the occupation.  there are so many contrasts to life here...