dancing with politics

A quick fill in about my life at the centre:
We've moved up to a beautiful house around the corner, where we're setting up a proper
school for Autistic children.  We camp out here, amongst the boxes of toys, attempting
temporary desks and cupboards being held together by tissue boxes and little sticks.
  Its quite a social hangout and so it's hard to find time alone.  But I'm lovin it.
I'm growing olive trees on the walls and cooking creative dinners and just making everyone
.else's jobs easier

...

  So a gang of really cool people were having a BBQ at the centre. (They're al from
conservative muslim families, though independantly each one rebelled to explore their
own identity and have now, due to similar interests I spose, found eachother).
  But then S rung me saying that he's going to G's in Jerusalem now, because tomorow day time
the checkpoint will be too busy.  I convince my sistaz P and M to come with me and
we dissapear into the mysterious set up of israel.
  I'd already been to G's ofcoarse but for P and M it was a shocking and rather whelming
experience.  Paradise. Utopia.  A fantasy family in an ideal world where your hopes
and dreams could come true.  Though for a Palestinian, it's illegal to come here.  For
S included.
  We hung out with other couch surfers and helped prepare for the party
which would be the next day.

  The party was made up of politically active Westerners, Europeans, Palestinians, Israelis
and other friends.
  I again had to battle with my discomfort. To be drinking coctails with people
who were born on the other side of the wall. I needed to hear all of their stories and
all of their own battles in order to relax and identify with them as my equals.
  One man was an ex pilot from the air force.  Did he know about the white phospherous
poisoning the population within Gaza?  He agreed that was a problem. It was not
associated with his life, however.  The soldiers aren't aware of what they do, exactly.
  Its business.  We follow orders.  Its just a job.  We protect our country
  I think Israelis are terrorized indeed.
Though terrorized by Israel itself, progamming ideas of protection and security so that
they cannot think outside of it.  No matter how educated they are.  No matter how
human they are.
  P and I were so polite throughout the whole conversation, and a huge circle around us
listened in, thus he was so inclined to answer our questions.
  He left the party soon after our conversation

  Excited to be in Jerusalem, where our shoulders are only natural to reveal, P and I
prepare to go out and party some more after G's party.
  A lift is organized with one of G's old friends, and five of us head off to a dance club.
  We end up discussing politics in a bar
    and soon discover that one of our fellows is a Zionist.  An ex soldier, who was intent
that the army was necessary and an equal opponent to Hamas and the Palestinian people.
  His body language cut me out of the conversation rather quickly and I suspect I came on
a bit strong.  Soon enough, D, too, was eliminated fron the conversation, so musical chairs
just left P and the driver in discussion about People
  Whilst he seemed suspicious of all Palestinians, believing that the military position is
only necessary for self defence.  But he then said that working with Autistic children is a
Divine thing to do, despite it being with the Palestinians.  He was sensitive to human beings
but stubborn concerning his belief for a Jewish state, and stubborn concerning the extent
to which one must fight to reach it.  There are many Islamic countries, but where can the Jews go?
He argued.  A ridiculous argument because 1. Palestinians never wanted an islamic country, but
a country which accepts the Palestinians be them Jewish Christian Muslim or Athiest. 2. Look at Jordan,
its now 70 percent paletsinian and the true Jordanians now dislike all of them for coming into
ther country. 3. The Jews can live without a strictly Jewish only state. WHy do they need a 'right of
return' when today they live in peace in whatever country they're in?
  Naturally I couldnt find the breath to say that to his face (or back) at the time.

  But the realization that this man could feeel for Austistic children (after expressing indifference
to Palestinians) was a bit much for P and after a little tearing in the bathrooms we started dancing
with the DJ.  Soon D joined us and we waved goodbye to our driver who I no longer trusted with my life
to spend a night dancing gayfully...or so I thought
Turned out its difficult to avoid arguments in Israel when socializing with randoms.

  We bumped into my friend Jay! Woohoo! I didnt have to call him cancelling our plans for the next day.
He was with another friend, and somehow we found the topic of Palestine.  He seemed convinced that the
Palestinians are simply less developed, less civil than the Israelis.  He says there are at least 10
Palestinians in his univercity and thus they have the opportunity to find good jobs, good lives, but they
end up living in dirty streets and choosing themselves a dodgy Parliament.  He just didn't understand
the control Israel has over Palestinian's choices.  They're walled in not only geographically, but are also
dissadvantaged in the work force, restricted in the travelling world, and completely abanndonned as far
as a representative goes, or choice of a representative.  I only needed to learn my facts to back up this
argument.
  The real problem there is that many Palestinians are beginning to believe exactly this themselves. That
they're insuperior. That courage gets them nowhere save for jail, perhaps.  Resiliance has taken the form
of idleness, and hibernation as action has taken peaceful forms.
  Many have lost confidence to explore their own identity, their own power, believing that
after this prolonged period of oppression, it will only lead to further dissapointment.

 Anyway, we boogey between conversations and somehow P is targetted by another Zionest on
the dance floor.  He follows us outside, and makes the mistake of initiating a political conversation.
  The poor guy was all about Peace - a hippy who wanted to keep the conversation at ease and thus
shape his opinions around ours.  He himself had experienced violence by Palestinians, as well as
a strictly Orthodox family (in the most extreme Orthodox villiage in Israel).  Through social pressure
perhaps, we had him say that he would give all Palestinians the right of return.  That he wanted
to go to the West Bank and experience the people's conditions for himself.  But
he didnt want to hear about their problems.  He didnt want to go there to feel sorry for anyone

  There are so many similarities between the two peoples. One being that neither wants to feel sorry for
the other.  Wants to empathise with the other.  Though most commonly they dont admit this, but the opposite
simply as they know thats what civil people do.  Many israelis were simply born into the country and feel
no connection to Palestine, no responsibilty whatsoever for the conditions they face.  So why should they
hear their problems which seem to target all of the people? Everyone hates the Jews!! Is a common belief
which leads the Palestinians to their not wanting to listen to the Israeli side of the story.  Palestine
never rejected Jews, but welcomed them, and they're sick of hearing about the halocaust because if the people
were truly sorry that it happened, why would they put the Palestinians through such a similar situation?
Moreover, the Israelis seem to have everything the Palestinians want.  The ocean, water supply, freedom of
 movement to visit their families and the land of their families.  Just to name a few.


I forget but it was fun

Cutting God into Territories

  I arrive back in Ramallah where the centre within which I work is excited
with new projects, and I begin to frantically note all the different ways I can contribute.
  But I cannot focus or settle just yet.  I'm meeting a bunch of impermenant Jerusalmeites
I'd just met with G who'd agreed to do a little tour of the west bank to learn about
life.
  She who is a lawful citizen is actually unallowed to visit the West Bank, but shes found

Alaqabah mosque: holding up a peace sign

a way around it.  See, apart from the checkpoints within (which have fully calmed down
since the last intifada when there were around 400) your passports are only really checked
 on your way out of the West
Bank (to stop Palestinians leaving without permission).  On her way out, G simply leaves via
illigal Settlements where the checkpoints allow Israelis to travel through. And only
israelis to travel through
...

  The checkpoints within have soldiers, but on this occasion they didnt stop us for an ID
check.  But the checkpoints are still useful, see because If a checkpoint is built beside
 your house, you are not allowed to stand outside
your own house because its illegal to stand around the checkpoints.

  So we jump in a service taxi with Z (G's trusty cab driver who accompanies all her little
tours)

  We go to Alaqabah, a section C village in the West Bank.  The West Bank is made up of
sections A B and C and section C means that the Israeli military have full control.
Alaqabah is probably the most peaceful of all the section C villages in terms of denfense
strategies.  less than 100 metres away, rolling down a neighbouring hill,
 is a training ground for soldiers.  A fake villiage, infact, where soliders train military strategies.
  The mayor of the village  has set up a guest house to welcome all foreigners to come, learn,
and feel free to help the people out. He, too, designed the village's mosque to have two spikes
at its peak.  This symbolizes peace.  The military however, claim that it stands for
victory.  This sums up the village perfectly.
  So we stayed at the guest house, where we spent the humid evening cooking, eating,
and (for some) sleeping on the roof beneath a velvetty sky. I was secretly relieved that
the villiage was cut off from water (there were no mosquitoes!)
  The village is cut off from water, as well as the road to their crops. Their fields.
And moreover, as the road was destoryed, big cumbersome holes were left dotting the path.
  When it was destoryed, G was the one to go leaping down the path of the tracktor.
  The soldiers had no reason to give her for why they were destroying the path;
'we're following orders.  Why are you here?'

By midday, Z has picked us up again and we head forr
NAAAAAAAAABLUUUUUUUUUS

So my previous trip was a fun for the family kind of BBQ, and I'm glad I allowed a second
look.  For I had completely missed the heat of devastation which drifted through the city.
Perhaps thats why, last time, we had avoided the old city?
  We toured through the streets and learnt of where a group of Palestinians were gassed to
death (ironically), where so and so were blown up, where such activists were shot, where this family
died: leaving a blasted house without a relative to reclaim it.
  The old, peaceful, antique village - of stone alleyways, winding through creative arches,
all made of a white stone ... all silent with a (humble) sense of loss.
  We ate knafe.

  I was then made to feel the guilt of eating animal products by a french vegetarian.
  We head to Jelazon.

  Somehow at the bus stop in Ramallah we had been invited back to the manager of the
Taxi service's house for dinner.  He lives in Jelazon, a local refugee camp.
  We lost some friends along the way.  I like how this happens in life: Big groups
simplify as those who truly care to continue doing what you want to do to stay with you.
Parties become more intimate.  Feelings become more natural.  Perhaps we had grown too much
confidence by the time we entered his house?
  No.  Anyway.  We had also developped this question by now which we'd discussed with all
of our new friends here and there.
  Do you think a one state solution is possible, where both the Israeli and Palestinian
gave up on Israelm, though lived together equally in one big harmonious...Canaan.

  After a short discussion, most people agreed that if only a process would leed this into
happening, it could work.
  Me and the taxi man's wife got along really well.  She had attitude and was learning sexy
dancing via TV.  Together we tried on her dancing dresses and wiggled the makloube away...
Yes, we were made a juicy rainbow feast of makloube dips and toubleh.

  The husband felt particularly restricted living in a refugee camp.  He wanted us to understand
the struggle.  This somehow meant that we needed to understand his religion.  All discussion of politics,
of the struggle, of life, was sivved through the story of God.
  The Koran says this land will always have war.
  The Book says that the Jews must come here for the Mesiah to come.
  He played us youtube clips.  One was of a Jew who'd converted to Islam...rather innapropriat
and the next was infact of a Rabbi.
  Between the hebrew - arabic translations, they must have misunderstood the message.
  This Jewish Rabbi had both Jews and Muslims supporting him
with polar interpretations of his speach.
  I really liked that it happened, because it drew the two peoples, the two religions
 into a parellel.  They share the same God, the same faith. They've just cut him up into
territories.
  I was too excited to go home, so the party continued to S's house where we continued to discuss
the world over watermelon.