Yom Hashoah

On Tuesday of this week was Yom Hashoah – the national day of remembrance for the Holocaust. To commemorate the day, Israelis observe 2 minutes of silence and many remembrance ceremonies are held. I was invited to attend a Yom Hashoah ceremony where a friend of my family here, a remarkable woman named Ruth Brant, delivered a talk on her experiences as a survivor of Auschwitz (the Nazi death camp where between 1.1 and 1.7 million people were killed – mostly Jews, but also homosexuals, Poles, Roma, and Soviet prisoners). I feel it important to share some of her experiences with you all now.

Ruth grew up in a small village an area that was traded between Romania and Hungary for most of its history. As Ruth described it, by the time the Nazis arrived in the area of Eastern Hungary (as it was then), the Nazi extermination of the Jews was running like a well-oiled machine. Ruth described how first all the Jewish men, and then all the women and children were rounded up in the town square and then loaded onto the cattle cars that would take most of them to their deaths. Ruth explained how there were hundreds of people crammed into each car, so that there wasn’t room to even sit down. There was no toilet – they were given a bucket to relieve themselves in. Many people didn’t make it through the journey.

Then they arrived in Auschwitz. The people were unloaded form the trains, and stripped of all their belongings. They were forced to file past Dr. Mengele, who separated those who he thought seemed fit to work and those who would go to the gas chambers. This was the last time Ruth Brant saw her family. Ruth, then a healthy 16-year-old girl was spared. Her family was not.

As Ruth told the crowd about her experiences in the camp (the cramped living conditions, the starvation, the dehumanization) no one dared make a sound. I was struck by the power of her attitude. Throughout all her ordeals, she never lost the will to live. She explains that she made a pact with God that if he let her live, she would promise to tell the story of what had occurred in the camp. She told the story of how, after her arm was tattooed by the Nazi soldiers, she looked at her number and had hope when she saw that it ended with the number 18. This number has significance in Judaism, because in Hebrew, the number 18 is represented by the two Hebrew letters that spell “chai” – life.

After liberation by the allies in early 1945, Ruth went to live in the US and eventually moved to Israel after the 6-Day war in 1967. Ruth now often speaks to groups at Yad Vashem (Israel’s Holocaust museum) and is a frequent speaker at schools and remembrance ceremonies. Ruth has visited the site of Aucschwitz-Birkenau 12 times now, but she mentioned that the most special return to Auschwitz was her 10th visit back, which she made accompanied by 200 officers in the Israeli Air Force. To her, it was the ultimate response to the Nazi atrocities- to return to the site of her people’s suffering surrounded by the strength of the Israeli military.

Anyone who doubts the importance of the state of Israel to the survivors of the Holocaust should spend a minute with Ruth Brant.

During this time of remembrance, I think it’s important to think about the lessons of the Holocaust. One of them is the obligation of the world to stop genocide wherever it occurs. The world has shown that it has not learned from history. In 1994, an estimated 1 million Tutsis and moderate Hutus were killed in Rwanda during a period of 100 days. Today, the conflict in the Darfur region of Sudan continues as the UN and world governments debate over how to get involved. I wonder: if Sudan were a major oil producer, would the conflict have gone on this long?

Visiting Ramallah

For most Jewish tourists, I did the unthinkable. I went to Ramallah this week.

I had been hoping to go for some time now, to see what it was like, and I finally had the opportunity. Eric brought me with him on Wednesday afternoon to help him negotiate a deal with a print-shop in Ramallah for the publication of the Seeds of Peace magazine (The Olive Branch).

As we drove through the city, we passed by the very impressive Chinese “embassy” (not a consulate) to Palestine. I’m not sure what kind of diplomatic relations led to the embassy being created before a Palestinian state, but I’m no expert on these things.














We then went to the meeting with the printer. Expecting to enter a cramped print shop, and haggle with an ink-smudged old man, I was surprised as we were led into the spacious and modern offices of a completely integrated advertising, design and printing firm. We were greeted by a young sales rep dressed in a sharp grey suit, who ushered us into a meeting room and offered us tea and coffee. As he brought in the drinks, he joked with a wry grin, “I would bring you vodka, but since the elections …” making reference to the Islamic fundamentalist Hamas victory in the January elections. It was a good ice-breaker. The negotiations went smoothly, and I was struck by how similar the negotiations were to ones that I participated in with Mercer. In fact, this was the least contentious of any negotiation I had been in. Ultimately, it looks like we will save Seeds of Peace about 40% off their printing costs (special thanks to Tim Hoyland for teaching me everything I know about negotiations).

This experience really brought home to me Thomas Freidman’s point when he wrote about two kinds of countries, those that “were intent on building a better Lexus, while others were […] intent on renewing ethnic and tribal feuds over who owned which olive trees.” (From Beirut to Jerusalem) This Palestinian company was focused on developing and promoting the capabilities of the Palestinian economy, not perpetuating the conflict in the region. If this attitude of taking advantage of the benefits that come with peace, economic development and access to world markets gains more adherents here, I believe there is reason for optimism in the region.

After a delicious lunch of shawarma (sans pita for me, as it was still Passover), Eric took me around for some sight-seeing. We went to the Muqata’a, the Palestinian presidential compound in Ramallah, where Arafat was put under “house arrest” by the IDF in 2002.

Here's the entrance to the compound.
The building is a remnant of the British Mandate. Several Muqata’as were built in the 20’s to house the British administrative apparatus, from bureaucrats to prisons. After the Oslo accords, this Muqata’a became one of the headquarters of the PA.

Here’s a look at the building from inside the front gates.



On November 12, 2004, Yasser Arafat was buried inside the gates of the compound. Arafat’s tomb is at the center of a partly-constructed mausoleum, and is guarded by four Palestinian soldiers who proudly walked me around the compound and explained the plans for the monument, prayer hall and memorial museum to be built on this site. The soldier was also quick to point out that this is a temporary tomb – the plan is that Arafat will be buried in the Al-Aqsa Mosque on the Temple Mount when Palestine makes its capital in Jerusalem.

Here is Arafat's mausoleum.

Arafat’s tomb, in the midst of construction










Also inside the compound were the barracks for Mahmoud Abbas’ Presidential Guard, seen here.















As we drove through the streets of Ramallah to head back to Jerusalem, we passed several streets lined with green Hamas flags. Apparently, these had been put up in the celebrations after the elections. Eric joked that Hamas blew its budget on flags.


Overall, I never felt that I was in danger in Ramallah, despite my family’s concern when I told them I was going to the city. I was actually quite impressed by the number of modern offices, apartment buildings and businesses I saw. I saw a city struggling to realize its economic potential. Granted, if I had visited the refugee camps that surround the city, the picture would likely be very different.

Ramallah is commonly regarded as the most affluent and moderate of the cities in the West bank. I wonder what my experience would be as a Jew in Nablus, or Jenin or Tulkarem.

Until next time,
Seth

Bombing in Tel Aviv

First of all, I’m fine…

As many of you probably know by now, there was a suicide bomber attack in Tel Aviv yesterday (Monday). 9 civilians were killed in the explosion that also took the life of the 21 year old bomber from the area near Jenin in the northern West Bank. The attack took place at a falafel stand at the old bus station. Ironically, the blast occurred at the very same falafel stand that was hit by a bombing in January.

Initially, reports came out that the bomber may have been as young as 16 – the same age as most of the kids that we work with at Seeds of Peace. It was later determined that the bomber was 21 years old, but it was quite shocking to think about a 16 year-old kid blowing himself up and taking 9 innocent lives with him.

This bombing was a horrible and despicable act, and it brought up a couple of key questions for me.

1) How did a suicide bomber make it from the Northern West Bank to Tel Aviv during this current period of closure?

This is the question that must be making Israeli officials very nervous. Many people recognize the wall/ barrier as a harsh measure, but necessary to ensure Israeli security. If it doesn’t provide that security, then what purpose does it serve? I guess the argument can also be made that the barrier should be enhanced – that if a 10 meter wall didn’t keep Israel safe, maybe a few extra feet and more razor wire will do it… And if that doesn’t work, what next?

2) Can you have a civil war before you have a state?

Mahmoud Abbas (Abu Mazen), the President of the PA came out and condemned the attack, using some of his harshest criticism yet for an attack. On the other hand, the Hamas government has condoned the attack, calling it “an act of self-defense.” It seems like there is a split in the Palestinian population between those who espouse the more moderate tactics of Mahmoud Abbas, and those who condone the suicide bombings. Even within Abbas’ own party, the militant elements have asked Abbas to issue a public apology for condemning the attack. As the Hamas government struggles to pay its bills, and deliver on its promises of social programs, I fear that the Palestinian public will be further polarized into those who are frustrated with Hamas (because of violence, and the economic ruin that was precipitated by their election), and those who remain loyal to Fatah and the moderate stance of Mahmoud Abbas. In fact, there are probably four or five factions, as the Fatah party has splintered into several groups with varying degrees of allegiance to the President. I suspect that as the international community places more pressure on Hamas, these fissures in the Palestinian society will start to widen. With this instability, how can anyone speak for the Palestinian people at the negotiation table? (I know I’m being optimistic even thinking about negotiations).

If you feel like reading more media coverage on the attack, have a look at this link: http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/706785.html

Good night all,
Seth

Jerusalem is Burning

A special two-for-one on blog entries tonight. This evening, I was cleaning up the dishes from dinner, when something outside caught my eye. Out of my window, I could see huge flames and billowing smoke coming from the middle of Mea Shearim – the Haredi neighbourhood just north of my apartment. Of course, I grabbed my camera, put on my shoes and went to check it out.

After wandering through the streets, following my vague sense of where the flames ought to be, I finally came to Nathan Strauss Street. I was greeted by an image out of a war zone. The street had been blocked off with overturned garbage dumpsters that had been set on fire. There didn’t appear to be any violence going on, as I saw a few kids dropping more bags of garbage on the burning piles.

Here are a few pictures I took:

Shocked and confused, I kept walking down the street, passing four or five more fires. After a few minutes, I reached a blockade set up by the police. I approached a soldier surveying the crowd and asked him what was going on. “I tell you what’s going on. We put a criminal in jail and the Haredim don’t like it,” he answered.

I had seen the news story on Ha’aretz.com this week. A 19-year old Haredi man, Yisrael Valls, was in custody after being charged with killing his 3-month old son. It’s a sickening story. Apparently the man (and I use the term loosely) confessed to slamming his 3-month-old baby against the wall. He said he was frustrated because the child would not let him sleep. He also said he felt disgust over a deformity in the child’s neck muscles. (For the full story, cut and paste this into your web browser: http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/704502.html)

The Haredi community wanted Valls to be set free before Passover, and warned that if he was not, “Jerusalem would burn” – and so it did. The Haredi community recognizes the authority of their own tribunals over that of the Israeli government, and wanted Valls turned over to them. My cynical side says they want to deal with it internally to avoid having all of the details made public and drawing attention to the insular community.

I have to admit, I was troubled by the news story, but I told myself, “Every community has its sick people.” Unfortunately, I’m not sure I can explain away the revulsion I feel for people who would set the streets on fire to free a child-killer.

It almost seems fitting that after a Passover evening in which I felt such solidarity with the Jewish people of Israel, something like this happens and I see clearly the Ultra-Orthodox community saying to me as a secular Jew, “We are not like you. You are not one of us. Let us deal with our own.”

If anyone else can make sense of this, please help me out.

- Seth

Passover in Jerusalem

Happy Passover to everyone, I hope this posting finds you well. Passover in Jerusalem is an interesting time – quite different from the Passover holidays I have spent at home. I knew this would be different when, on Wednesday morning, as I was biking through Mea Shearim (the ultra-orthodox Haredi neighbourhood of Jerusalem) I saw large groups of families engaging in the traditional burning of the bread before Passover. Even growing up in a predominantly Jewish neighbourhood in Montreal, I never saw this happen.

I had dinner last night at my family’s apartment here. Interestingly, at the Seder, along with the traditional extra cup of wine for Eliyahu the prophet, the family had set an extra place that they said was for Jonathan Pollard. Jonathan Pollard is a Jewish American (he was granted Israeli citizenship in 1998) who was convicted of spying on the United States and providing classified information to an ally (Israel). He was sentenced with life in prison, and has been in a US jail since 1985. Israelis want the US to pardon Pollard, or at least extradite him to Israel. The Pollard issue continues to be a point of contention in Israeli-US relations. Pro-Pollard activists claim that Pollard’s life sentence was far more severe than the crime merited.

After stuffing myself with matzah, and singing Passover songs, I started the walk back to my apartment at 1:30am. As I was walking through Giv’at Sha’ul I could hear through open windows other Passover Seders finishing up, with whole families joining together in singing the traditional songs. As I walked down the street, the different families’ tunes and songs greeted me in the orange lamplight and I thought to myself, “This is the vision of the Jewish state.” I can understand the allure of being surrounded by a majority of Jews. As a Canadian, much of my Jewish experience involves being “different” from those around me. It’s strange, but the simple freedom of not having to explain yourself to someone when you are practicing your religion (even in an open and tolerant society like Canada) is liberating.

As during most holiday periods in Israel, the IDF has been very busy. According to IDF reports, they have prevented over 70 attacks from Palestinian militants in the last month. The last two weeks have also brought 18 Palestinian casualties (it may be more now, but this was the last number I saw). Most of these have been armed militants, but at least 2 children have been killed. Much of the Israeli fire has been in response to the latest salvo of Qassam rocket attacks that have been originating in the Gaza strip. The IDF has a policy of shelling the sites of rocket attacks. I understand that the idea is that it is supposed to serve as a deterrent, but when radicals use civilian homes to launch attacks, everyone loses: the terrorists launch their attacks, and when Israel responds, they get more martyrs for the cause. I don’t have a better solution, but any time innocent children are killed, I think we need to take a minute and re-evaluate things.

That brings me back to a picture of a poster that I put up on my last post. I erroneously assumed that the poster I saw was an election poster. A colleague at the center translated the Arabic on the poster for me. In fact, while I’m sure that there is political motivation behind it, the poster is actually what they call a “martyr poster”. The Young man on the poster was part of Al-Aqsa Martyr’s Brigade. He was killed by IDF forces. Al-Aqsa Martyr’s Brigade has been active in planning and carrying out attacks in Israel on military and civilian targets. They consider themselves (and are considered by many in Fatah) as Fatah’s “military wing.” Their official status is a little murky as some members of Fatah have tried to distance themselves from the group. So, the use of the Fatah emblem on the poster may or may not have been sanctioned. A colleague of mine pointed out the lunacy of it all when he said, “What are they going to do, sue for copyright infringement?” I guess this is another instance of things not always being what they seem. I should be used to it by now.

Be safe.
- Seth

Getting an Education

Sorry it has been a while since my last entry. It’s been a very thought-provoking week, and I’ll share some of it with you now. I’ll apologize for the length of this entry, but there’s a lot I feel I need to tell you all.

On Friday, I was invited to visit the home of a Seed from 2004 (Alon – his picture is on the last post). I met Alon at the Seeds Café last week and he invited me to come along with Eric and Jesse (two brothers who work for Seeds of Peace) when they came over to his house.

Alon lives in a settlement community called Givon Hahadasha. The name means “New Gibeon”, since it is located right next to the site of the biblical Gibeon (now a Palestinian town called Al-Jib), where according to the bible, the sun stood still for Joshua as he fought a battle during the conquest of the land of Canaan. It is a small community of about 1,300 residents that initially started in an abandoned Jordanian army base. It is a beautiful community, perched on top of a hill, with panoramic views overlooking the neighbouring hills, nice houses and yards with basketball nets and satellite dishes.

After having some cake and tea, Alon took us for a tour around the perimeter of the settlement. Then it hit me: this is no ordinary suburb of Jerusalem. The community is completely surrounded by a fence with barbed wire and razor wire. As someone who has visited the concentration camps of Auschwitz and Majdanek, the image of barbed wire is one that carries a lot of emotional baggage. Seeing the barbed wire set up to protect this community brought a rush of conflicting emotions. Is this the type of state the Zionists hoped to create from the ashes of the Holocaust?

As we continued on our tour around the edge of the settlement, we could see where the security fence was being built (construction has been halted pending an Israeli supreme court ruling). We walked past the playground that was protected by slabs of concrete, meant to block any bullets from the Palestinian villages a few hundred meters away. The most interesting sight we saw came next. Here the fence takes a sharp turn. Beyond the fence is a narrow dirt walkway, bordered on the other side by another fence. Following the walkway with my eyes, I could see that it led to a small house that didn’t fit in with the large modern homes of the settlement. It was a small, one-story home that belonged to a Palestinian family, and it was completely surrounded by a 10-foot fence, and beyond the fence, the settlement. I didn’t have my camera here, but I was able to find a picture of the home on the web.

According to Alon, the settlers had offered this Palestinian family a large sum for their home, but they refused to sell it. Understandably, there are social repercussions for Palestinians who sell their land to Israelis. So here we have the situation of this tiny Palestinian island inside the Jewish settlement, which is itself an island surrounded by other Palestinian towns. I’m starting to see the difficulty of separating these two peoples here.

Saturday brought a whole new educational experience.

A board member from Seeds of Peace was in town and Eric had set up a “Seam line” tour for the board member and his wife. I was lucky enough to be able to tag along.

I thought a lot about the terminology of the “Seam” that represents Israel’s pre-1967 border. It evokes the image of a country stitched together. You can almost picture the threads straining against the tensions of two nations pulling in opposite directions.

We started the tour driving through East Jerusalem, which was annexed by Israel in 1967. Anyone who says that Jerusalem was “unified” in 1967 has probably never been to East Jerusalem. The vast majority of Israelis and Jews never venture to this side of the city that is home to over 200,000 Palestinians. Since East Jerusalem was annexed by Israel (as opposed to the rest of the West Bank and Gaza, which are “occupied”), Palestinian residents of Jerusalem were given special status. After the annexation, the residents were given the option to apply for full Israeli citizenship (with all of the benefits of voting rights for the Knesset), however most Palestinians refused because this would have entailed a sworn oath of allegiance to Israel. Those Palestinians who do not have full Israeli citizenship could apply for a “Jerusalem Resident” card that is quite coveted in the Palestinian society, because it provides for additional freedom in traveling around Israel and through various checkpoints. Jerusalem residents who are not Israeli citizens can still vote in municipal elections (but not for the Knesset).

As we continued the tour along the controversial “Security Wall”, I was struck by the sheer size and scale of it. I should point out that for over 90% of its length, the wall is not really wall at all, but a chain-link fence. In these locations however, there are roughly a hundred meters on each side of the fence that act as no-man’s land, and provide a buffer between the two sides. Of course, in the densely populated areas around Jerusalem, there just isn’t the space to do that, so instead we have the 30-foot poured concrete walls. The wall is constructed with huge slabs of concrete that were individually poured. The slabs have holes in the top so that they can be moved around with a crane. The Israeli government has always maintained that these walls are a “temporary security measure” however, it’s hard to argue with the view that the government is trying to unilaterally define the future borders of Israel.

Here’s a view of a section of the Wall with the Old City and the Dome of the Rock in the background.










Here is a picture of a point in the wall where one of the slabs was knocked over. Rather than put the wall back in place, the IDF set up an improvised checkpoint by stationing a Jeep here with 4 soldiers. You can see the soldiers checking ID cards and allowing people to pass back and forth. It’s amazing to think that for the years between 1967 and the construction of the Wall, there was virtually unimpeded access between the West Bank Towns and the rest of Jerusalem, and so a huge number of Palestinians used to live on the West Bank and work in Jerusalem with little inconvenience. Now, this access has been cut off, and forced through regulated checkpoints. I can see how this would make it much harder for would-be suicide bombers to make it into the heart of a Jewish neighbourhood, but I can also imagine the frustration for the Palestinians who used to make a living on the other side.

We continued our tour by heading over to Bethlehem, the birthplace of Jesus. Bethlehem is home to the Church of the nativity, built in 330 A.D. over the grotto where Jesus is believed to have been born. In order to get to Bethlehem, we had to pass through a checkpoint, unfortunately, our driver, Mezzin (a Palestinian with a Jerusalem resident ID), was not allowed to enter through this checkpoint because of the IDF-imposed closure. Paradoxically, when we were turned away, we were able to simply take an alternate route, and get into the city without passing through a checkpoint.

Once we made it into Bethlehem, we were greeted by the site of a fairly prosperous-looking town. Bethlehem is mainly Muslim, but has a strong minority of Palestinian Christians.

As we were walking through the town I came across this poster that was still up from the Palestinian elections.



I took a picture of the poster, simply assuming that based on the imagery of the machine-gun toting militant and the Dome of the Rock, this must be an advertisement for Hamas. When I got home, I looked up the emblem in the center of the poster, and discovered that this was actually a poster supporting the Fatah party of Mahmoud Abbas. I have to admit, I am very confused. Is this the poster of a moderate party that recognizes Israel? Is this the party that the West was hoping would win the election instead of Hamas?



If you look closer at the Fatah emblem, you see that it is made up of two machine guns and a grenade, with the map of what the party considers Palestine – all of present-day Israel and the Occupied Territories. This is quite disconcerting. Is the emblem merely a remnant from the party’s more violent past? I hope so, but who knows?

As we were leaving Bethlehem, we walked through the new “terminal” checkpoint between Bethlehem and Jerusalem. Here is Eric walking through the pedestrian entrance. Normally, this area would be packed with Palestinians trying to go across (which can take hours), but since Israel has declared a “Closure” the checkpoint was empty.


A wall of this size is a graffiti writer’s dream. I was particularly struck by some of the language of despair spray-painted on the wall. Words like “ghetto”, “trapped” and “cage” were all over. What must this be doing to the Palestinian psyche?







This is Eric at the entrance into the checkpoint. I don’t have pictures from inside (I didn’t want to provoke the ire of any soldiers), but we went through at least two of these metal turnstile doors, while we were monitored by Israeli army girls behind bomb-proof glass. This made security at Ben-Gurion Airport look like Disneyland.

This stuff is all pretty controversial, so if I’ve said something that you disagree with, please let me know. I am trying not to take sides here, which is tough, because I was brought up like most North American Jews, with a deep reverence for the state of Israel and its place in history, and a healthy dose of Zionism. One of the things that I’m understanding here is that virtually everyone has taken a side. Every story has at least two (if not three or four) interpretations, so I’ll try to stick to facts and my own thoughts and impressions, which you should take for what they are.

Take care, and I’ll post again soon.
- Seth

The Road to Peace is Paved with Humous

Surely I jest, but I thought I’d share with you all one of the programs we put on at the centre Sunday night. It was the second monthly “Seeds Café” where we invite members of the Seeds of Peace community, including former Seeds, delegation leaders, friends and family to come together for some informal mingling. We have started doing these events on the first Sunday of every month, and they have been very successful so far. Last month, the theme was story-telling, and there was an Israeli and a Palestinian storyteller who each talked about their culture’s tradition of storytelling, and regaled the audience with some stories. Then the audience got to participate with some stories of their own.

This month, the theme of the event was achieving mutual understanding through food. The center invited an Israeli and a Palestinian chef to come and prepare some of each side’s culinary delights. The food was incredible. I got to have some excellent falafel, as well as some local delicacies like stuffed, baked figs and Jerusalem’s unique form of kugel (a traditional Jewish dish). We then had a group discussion where members of the group were encouraged to discuss the role of food in their culture and elaborate on the similarities and differences between the cultures.

It was a very enjoyable (and filling) experience for all, and it was a particularly good opportunity for parents of Seeds, who tend to be more conservative than their children, to socialize with peers from the opposite side of the conflict.

Here are a few pictures from the event:














This is Tamara, (Palestinian), Alon and Moran (both Israeli) who are all Seeds from 2004 who came to help out with the event. They were posted at the registration/ name tag desk.



As the discussion kicked off, we partook in a symbolic "breaking of bread". Interestingly, both cultures have a tradition of extending hospitality with bread and salt, which can be traced to the story of Abraham's travels to the Promised Land. As you can see here, participants are tearing pieces off a giant challah (or egg-bread) and dipping it into a bowl of coarse-grain salt.




















Here's a shot of me and some of the other volunteers and staff members who helped out with the event.

I really enjoyed myself at the event and it re-affirmed for me that what we are doing here to humanize this conflict is paying dividends. As one participant noted, when you break bread with your enemy, and you see them eat, you are confronted by the fact of their humanity. They eat just like you do, they have the same basic needs for survival and they enjoy the same luxuries of delicious food.

If only it were as easy as having people over for dinner... at least it's a start.

The Orange T-Shirt

It's Saturday evening, and I've just come back from my family's apartment in Giv'at Sha'ul, a very observant neighbourhood that's about a 30-minute walk from my apartment in central Jerusalem.

I had the pleasure of spending Shabbat dinner with my family last night, and they invited me back for lunch today. Spending time with the family has been great, and it has especially rewarding to get to know my cousins a little better.

The oldest son of the family, Yanadav Shlomo, is in the army now and he was able to come home for Shabbat. He is currently stationed at a base in the Northern West Bank, near a city called Nablus by the Palestinians and Shechem by Israelis. He is in the Tzanchanim (Paratroopers) - a very elite unit, with a similar connotation in Israel to being a Navy SEAL in the US.

Yanadav Shlomo was very excited to see me and he had a present for me: a T-shirt. This is not just any shirt. The arms are in the brightest shade of crossing-guard-vest orange you have ever seen (the adopted colour of the pro-settler movement). The front has the emblem of his unit over the left side of the chest. The back has a graphic with three Israeli soldiers shooting over the West Bank wall/fence/barrier as buildings behind the wall are in flames. Around the graphic are the words in Hebrew, (and I'll translate loosely here) "We kicked Hezbollah's ass in 2005!" To be honest, I felt very conflicted looking at the shirt. I realized that a year ago I probably would have worn the shirt and not given it any thought, but now I understand what these images (the orange, the wall, the soldiers shooting over the wall) mean to the other side. My aunt saw me looking at the shirt and she came up to me afterward and started to say, "You understand, this is a very different environment from where you're working..." I stopped her and said, "Don't worry; I won't wear the shirt to the center."


I feel caught in the middle. My family here would be considered right wing. My eldest cousin (she's my age) was forcefully removed from her home in Gush Katif, a settlement bloc in the Gaza strip, when the evacuation was ordered. On the other side, I'm working in a center with Palestinians, who tell me about how it takes 4 hours at the checkpoint to travel the 6 miles between Jerusalem and Ramallah, that is, if they're lucky and the checkpoint is open. I hear about the Israeli laws and restrictions imposed by the IDF that make life very difficult for the Palestinians, I hear about the security barrier that separates Palestinians from their farm land and water supplies, and then I hear about the Palestinian who blew up himself and three Israeli civilians Thursday night after posing as a Jewish hitchhiker. As I am quickly understanding, nothing here is simple.

On a lighter note, I wanted to put up some pictures of the apartment I moved into here. It’s a tiny one-room apartment in the center of the city, located right between the center of the city’s nightlife (Ben Yehuda Street) and the main market (Mahane Yehuda). Here are a few pictures:

So this it: basically, just one room. The bed doubles as a couch. On the plus side, there's Satellite TV, and high-speed wireless internet (though I suspect that it's stolen from the neighbours).









...And the view from the other side of the bed: here is the shower, which is next to the kitchen area. I especially like the "rubber ducky" shower curtain. Note that the shower opens into the living room/kitchen/bedroom. In case you were wondering, that is the only sink in the apartment, so it performs double duty as both the kitchen and bathroom sink.





My favourite feature of this apartment has to be the view. It is on the eighth floor, and has a great view on the surrounding hills. I took these pictures this evening, just as dusk was falling. I love the colour of the Jerusalem stone in the sunset.









Here's the view toward the North-East corner of the city.














This is a zoomed-in shot at the same angle as above. The hill you see is called "French Hill," where the Seeds of Peace Center is located. The divided roadway you see here follows the path of the 1949 Armistice (Green) line. Everything you see to the right of that road was part of Jordan until 1967. The UN technically calls the area of French Hill a "settlement", Israelis call the area "a Jerusalem neighbourhood". Many of the large buildings you see at the top of the hill are dormitories for the campus of The Hebrew University of Jerusalem on nearby Mount Scopus. The surrounding neighbourhoods are predominantly Arab.

Well, there's the glimpse into my life for today. I've been a little more personal in this entry and I know that the things I'm talking about are very sensitive topics. I'm not trying to claim that I'm an expert after being here for two weeks. I'm just trying to figure things out for myself, and I guess I'm bringing you guys along. As always, I welcome any comments and I have appreciated the emails that I have received from many of you reading these entries.

Cheers,
Seth