Shway Shway...

So, "shway shway" (I have no idea how to spell the semi-official phonetic spelling, seeing as nobody has an official spelling), means "little by little" in Arabic.  I've heard it used as kindergarteners were filing into the computer lab or when I try to explain I have "shway shway Arabie."  

My puprose for saying shway shway now though, is to explain that while the amount of learning I've done already is insane, I'm still learning and making relationships little by little.  There's this slightly older man who sits on the steps of the cafe where I catch my bus every morning.  We've really only exchanged "Marahaba."  Today, I said, "Sab'il her" (ignore the spelling), which means "Good morning!"  He responded back and smiled.  I told my rooommates last night that I'd like to get to the point, where I can walk up the hill every morning, and talk to him before I get on the bus.  He's there every day.  Some days he has friends there, but other days he's alone.  

Later today, I got off the bus after school and started walking down our steep hill.  I was about halfway down and someone honked behind me.  I just moved to the side, thinking that it was someone who wanted to alert me that they were there.  Well, someone did, but this someone was my porch friend!  He drove by with his family and had a BIG smile on his face as he waved!  Now, I know it sounds minor, but it definitely reminded me that building relationships here is "shway shway."  

Other random tidbits...
I saw the kindergarten kids following each other around on the planter box thing in the courtyard.  It's cute, because that's what they were doing with me yesterday.  :)  

I was working in the principal's office this morning and ended up helping her write a grant proposal for $17,000.  It was kinda crazy to go from a pencil-sharpening blister to writing a grant proposal.  Mommy would be proud.  No, really.  She writes a lot of grant proposals for her job.  Anyway, while I was looking out the window, I saw the kindergarteners running around in their purple smocks.  I will most certainly post pictures when I get a chance, but I want to take pictures of kids I know, rather than some 'poor Palestinian children.'  Regardless, they run around in these adorable purple smocks, that kinda look like dresses.  They have long sleeves, little collars, buttons up the back, and patches with the school logo on the chest.  I watched them running around...so, so, so cute!  Then, out of nowhere, I see this other little child in his purple smock, chasing the other kids....with a Spiderman mask on.  This was like, full-on, head totally covered, Spiderman mask.  I nearly peed myself.  I wish I could have had my camera for that moment.  It was a-mazing.  

Alright, it's short, but we're off to Jerusalem for the night to play some volleyball with the international crew.

Much love,
Meredith

Peace...Salaam...Shalom...for real.

Judging by the concerned email I got from my sister, I just wanted to put it out there that I wasn't one of the four civilians injured by the car accident/attack in the Old City in Jerusalem last night.  I am fine and I actually hadn't heard about it until now, from her email.  Upon my investigation though, I think it's interesting to do a bit of an article comparison though.

Read this article...now read this one.  Now, I am not the most versed person on media bias or whatnot, but look up some other articles, besides the ones I posted.  So, on one hand, the media is telling us that this was a terrorist attack, but others are telling us that it was some random, broken-hearted teenager.  I don't know.  I don't know if it was a terrorist attack.  I don't know if it was a random accident.  I do know, that regardless of intention, security points have already been tightened (if that's possible).  Literally, I asked one of the guys in Jerusalem about the accident, and he said that one of the Palestinian workers for the LWF was stopped three times on the way to work.  Three.  Security is tighter, but that also means tensions are higher.  

I'm really interested to hear follow-up on both sides.  I read a bunch of articles with various little blurbs.  One talked about a group of ultra-Orthodox Jews who chased an Arab man down the street after the accident.  The one article is also the Jihad praising the accident, and asking the PNA to pull out of peace negotiations with Israel.  I don't know what to think of it all.  I will be interested to see if anyone at school is talking about it tomorrow.

On a lighter note, I got to see a really, REALLY awesome concert on Sunday night in Jerusalem.  It was a combination of Palestinian and Israeli groups that performed together.  The first was called Whiteflag.  They were more middle-aged adults.  It was only like, half of the group performing, because the other half was stuck in Gaza.  The next group was called G-TOWN and it's a Palestinian hip-hop group that was born and raised in the Shoufat Refugee Camp.  They were, AMAZING!  I loved it!!!!  Their website is here.  We were also blessed to have the Sulhita group, which is comprised of three Jewish teenage boys with way more energy than I have ever seen, minus every kid at the Dar Al-Kalima school.  They were ridiculous though.  They were so fun and ran around the stage.  They would count to three, then have us yell, "Shalom!", "Salaam!", "Peace!", "Love!", or "Whatever you want...make something up!"  They were just a hoot!  The last group to perform was an ensemble of Israeli and Palestinian high school student musicians from the Jerusalem area.  They were...amazing.  They were so talented that it seemed fake that they were in high school!  All of the performers were so good!  Their music was all geared towards finding peace.  

I guess in my negativity about the occupation, I have forgotten to humanize Israelis.  I think it's very similar to being an American.  There are lots of Israelis who don't know where any of the checkpoints are.  There are plenty of Israelis living their lives, struggling to find peace and work like Palestinians.  I don't want to blame it solely on the government, because there are clearly violent settlements, but I realized watching this concert that it's important not to label the Israelis as bad people!!!  I apologize to all of them and to all of you reading this.  There are conservative Israelis who support the Wall, Zionism, violent settlements, and basically, genocide.  There are plenty of Israelis who are living their lives, either unaware or disappointed, but lack the power to change, the current occupation situation.  

Some other positive notes?  I had a really fun day swimming with the kids today and yesterday!  The class time is stressful, but the free time is waaaaay fun!  I think it surprises them how much I like to splash and goof off with them!  I even got one kid to drag me around the pool on a noodle...score!  They really don't understand that I don't know Arabic, despite my blonde hair and blueish green eyes.  They will ramble full paragraphs and expect me to understand.  I feel like the most distant adult to them, but I guess it's just what it is.  

I also had an awesome moment yesterday morning.  Well, I've had lots of awesome moments, but I guess not all of them transform into a story that I can blog for you to read and understand...half-way across the world.  Regardless, here's my "moment."  I alternate days between the one kindergarten class and the middle school English classes (I follow the teacher, who just rotates between 6th-9th grade...I think).  Well, Mondays and Wednesdays are devoted to the middle school and Tuesdays and Thursdays are devoted to the kindergarten.  As I was walking into school yesterday, one of the little girls in the kindergarten class grabbed my hand and started talking to me.  I understood a little of the Arabic she was using and she also has decent English for a kindergartener.  She held my hand until we met up with another one of the girls from her class.  These two girls are definitely the ones I've connected the most with...well, minus the mom-sick boy who continues to spend the majority of his kindergarten experience crying and attached to my leg.  The girls tried to pull me into their classroom, but I stopped.  I explained to them in Arabic that I wasn't with them today, but that I was upstairs.  I would be with them tomorrow (as in, today, Tuesday).  This developed into decent argument...in Arabic...with 5 year-olds...for like 10 minutes.  It was a-dorable.  They were so distressed that I wasn't staying with them!!!  They tried bartering with me and telling me to stay with them today and go with the others tomorrow.  So, so, so cute!  

My day with kindergarten today was a lot of fun.  I spent the majority of my morning sharpening colored pencils.  I have a full blown blister and three of my fingers have like, red pressure pains on them...if that makes sense.  ELCA, I thought you said I would be "being," not "doing."  My blister seems to fall into the DOING category!!!  Just kidding!!!  It just cracks me up to say I have an injury from...kindergarten...because I sharpened colored pencils though.

My favorite part of sharpening pencils, though, is that because I was doing this simple task that the teacher asked me to do, it turned into the "cool thing."  I suddenly had a group of like, four students, fighting over the pencil sharpeners to help me!  It actually kept the one boy (the one who likes to run out of the room on a regular basis) from punching, hitting, or running!!!  It was great!  I also played a little "football" or soccer with them at their recess break.  This basically meant that I was sprinting through the courtyard with a heard of four and five-year-olds kicking a soccer ball, while wearing a skirt.  I think the kindergarten teacher was pleasantly surprised, because I'm pretty sure that break was twice as long as normal. :)  The gym teacher was also out there with his class and looked a little surprise.  It was way fun though!  

Sorry...this is turning into another really long blog post!  

We went to an Iftar tonight.  An Iftar is the name of the meal that Muslims have to break the daily fast in Ramadan.  We ate a variety of foods--I couldn't tell you what anything was called or had in it.  We then listened to an Iman speak about Ramadan fasting.  The Iman is the equivalent of a priest or pastor.  I can't remember everything he taught us and I didn't have my handy-dandy-notebook, but I do remember that Muslims start their fast after they eat a morning meal called a Sahour, then the evening Iftar meal.  They also eat dates a lot at Iftars, because it's seen as a good blend of natural sugars to gently work into the empty stomachs.  They believe that you shouldn't stuff yourself at the meal; your stomach should be 1/3 full of food, 1/3 full of drink (Muslims refrain from drinking during fasting as well...like, they won't swim in the pool for the likelihood of swallowing water), and 1/3 full of air, or room for digestion.

Gender issues and no water

This isn't going to be a majorly profound post; rather, it's going to be a slight rant mixed with a look at the cultural allowances here.  Let me explain.  There are five women and one man in our YAGM group.  We're all 22 and just graduated from college in May.  We, as women, were recommended not to make eye contact with men.  We were also recommended not to say hello.  Paul can say hello and even gets spoken to first!  It's not to be rude, but those two actions are seen as a come-on or an opening for flirting.  Alright, so, I've struggled with this.  I love saying 'hi' to people, even random strangers.  I just feel that it's rude to be passing one another and not acknowledge the other person.  The first level is that as women, we are not to encourage these interactions.  Fine.

Level two: When we walk down the street, we're honked at...constantly.  I should probably saying that honking is used a lot more here.  It has a variety of purposes.  It indicates that a taxi is willing to pick you up, a friend is saying 'hi', you're about to run into someone, or that you think the American girls walking down the street are attractive.  Paul, our dear zalame (Arabic for man), does not get honked at in the street.  Paul is actually able to walk down the street and be respectfully greeted by everyone, and even stop to play his guitar for small children.  Crazy.

Level three: Paul doesn't get his butt touched or slapped.  Yes, yes, I said it.  Out of the five of us, one girl had her butt slapped by a 10 year-old boy.  One girl had her butt gently touched by a 5 year-old boy.  I was blown a kiss by strange older man driving a van.  Okay, so, it's not the end of the world, but no child would slap the butt of a Palestinian woman...or Paul.  I should probably say that this is by NO MEANS insulting Paul.  I'm just simply frustrated that based on biological parts, I am treated completely differently in a society.  

The language even promotes this.  In Arabic, "bint" means girl and "walad" means boy; "mara" means woman and "zalame" means man.  Fine.  Bint is used for any female who is not married, but if you call even a teenage male a "walad," it's a severe insult.  So, somebody is a man at age 18, but a 45 year-old woman who is unmarried (which is social taboo anyway) is a girl.  

I don't understand.  I think this is the whole being raised in an intensely feminist household thing is making me ethnocentric.  It's frustrating and mildly insulting at times.  

I suppose the slight upside is that your self-esteem can always be boosted by walking down the street at night and being honked at by a carload of shebabs (young men hanging out in groups), and hearing amazing Arabic techno music.  

I have no way to connect that rant to my next point...so I'm providing you this random quote I saw on a bumper sticker today: "When Jesus said 'love your neighbor,' I'm pretty sure he meant don't shoot them."  Think about that.

New thought: Our water was shut off today.  In case I haven't explained this before, or perhaps the last round wasn't very clear, the Israeli government controls water distribution.  A home in Jerusalem, other parts of Israel, or a settlement in the West Bank, is allotted 200 liters of water per day.  Settlements are groups of Israeli citizens moving into the West Bank to take over land.  Those of us living in the West Bank, not living in a settlement, are allotted 60 liters of water per day.  The World Health Organization recommends 150 liters of water per day.  Water is delivered or turned on, or somehow provided, but with limitation (I'll research this more).  Now, for those of you immediately concerned for me and my hygiene, don't fret.  Our landlady somehow collects rainwater, stores it, and pumps it out when our building runs out of water.  I say somehow, because to the best of my knowledge, it rained four times here last year...in January and February.  I don't really know how that works.  

On the more concerning Palestinian side of things, this means a total shut-down.  There are families that go without water for a week or more.  I felt inconvenienced by the fact that our water is considered unacceptable to drink, so we've been boiling, cooling, filtering, and bottling it for later drinking and washing.  I complained about this.  Uh, Meredith Emily, did you stop to realize that people here don't have water right now???  We're in the middle of a desert!!!  Nikki, Marta, and I then made the executive decision to use a portion of our stipend to buy bottled water.  I don't have the heart to continue drinking water that is shared amongst several households, when we can afford to buy replacement water.  

It stinks.  Water is essential for life and people don't have it.  I think the most aggravating part of all of this, is that water is here.  There is plenty of water for everyone.  The government is controlling the distribution of it, based on your religion, basically.  

Alright, that's my final complaint for the evening.  It's time for bed.  I'm finding that the things that are so awful to me are so, so petty.  I can't flush toilet paper.  They can't shower for over a week.  Ridiculous.

Dear Friends and Family,

If anyone ever asks you to teach swim lessons to a group of small children whose native language is not even remotely close to yours, politely decline.

No, not really.  I don't want to be negative.  It was a way unique experience, and by unique, I mean total mayhem.  We had second graders today and the main instructor suggested we split the class.  I tried to explain that I would prefer to just watch for today, but I think I negated that statement when I got in the pool to help some of the kids streamline.  Next thing I knew, he had split the class, leaving me with roughly nine second-graders who knew absolutely no English.  

It started off okay.  It was a lot of demonstrating.  I figured out to say, "La..." and point to the wrong way, because that means no, and "Aywa" or "Masbut" and point to the right way, because that means yes or correct.  This helped a little.  The main problem is that these kids get like, one hour per week in a pool and have no interest in really learning how to swim.  Plus, I don't think they really had a lot of one-on-one swimming instruction before.  Plus, I don't speak Arabic.  I was really close at some points to turning around and just telling the teacher I couldn't do it.  It was ridiculously hard.  They wouldn't listen to me, or they would listen to me, then immediately disobey what I had told them with shway shway Arabi and sign language.  

I tried to talk to him at the end and request that we work together for awhile, but again, I'm not sure if that translated.  I had a pleasant surprise though, when riding the bus home.  I try to make small talk in Arabic with the kids around me and I had talked to the girl directly behind me.  She was really quiet and didn't really respond.  I turned back around and her older sister moved up to the seat next to me.  She and I started talking and she told me that she'll be in my older swimming class on Saturday.  She also taught me a few more Arabic words: esbehah (swimming), zreer (baby), ciarra (car), shar (hair), and more.  She also said that she wants to teach me more when we have class.  I was really excited!!!  It was definitely the redeeming force for the sheer inadequacy I felt from the swimming class.  

This really isn't in order of sequence, but I wanted to add that my day yesterday was pretty rough.  I had no schedule and nobody seemed to want me around, and those that did, just wanted slave labor out of me.  I got the bus home, on the early round instead of the 2:15 round that I took Monday, and I was dropped off at the top of my hill.  I started walking towards the market and I heard someone yell my name.  Now, when you're living in another country, it's very rare that you hear your name yelled like that.  I turned around to find one of the American volunteers standing on the patio of the cafe at the top of the hill.  He called me over and asked how my day went.  In my standard Meredith-upset-ness, I started to cry.  I had been holding it in all day and it was one of those, "I feel safe now, let's explode" type of moments.  He encouraged me to come inside where the pastor's wife of the English-speaking congregation, another American volunteer, and a Danish volunteer, all of whom are amazing people.  They ended up listening to me and giving me the advice to be patient and such.  It's not really important what all they said to me as I pass it on to you through this blog, but it was really this amazing feeling to feel wanted by people.  Plus, it was cool, because they were actually in Hebron and very randomly decided to stop in Bethlehem for lunch.  It was intentional from the big guy, I think.  It was so revitalizing though.  I felt much better after it.

Today's English classes were interesting.  The teacher asked the one class if they liked living in their country, and why.  Every student said that they didn't like living in their country.  7th graders.  "I don't feel safe."  "There's no security."  "The government doesn't support us."  "There's nowhere to play or have fun."  "We have no permission to go to Israel."  "I don't like the occupation."And so on, and so on.  My America golden ticket started glimmering in the sun again.  The teacher made a point to say that she didn't like all those things about their country, but that she really liked the stability with families in Palestine.  The culture here is to really live with your parents until the day you're married.  Like, single people don't get apartments, from my understanding.  You live with your parents until you're married, and typically that's when they build another floor on the house for your family of procreation to live.  This was interesting to explain today when the teacher turned to ask me if I like living in the United States and why.  I focused on liking the variety and diversity of our country, and the way you can drive across and see lots of different landscapes and sites, all in the same country.  It really felt so sad to be saying anything about my country, when I was standing in a classroom of students that feel no security or freedom.  It's almost like this perpetual inner-city lifestyle or something.  

Another random, non-chronologically sound story, revolves around yesterday.  I spent the day with the kindergarten class.  This was way fun.  They know absolutely no English, but are the stinking cutest kids ever.  I spent the day helping them string packing peanuts onto...string.  I think they were using the strands to decorate a branch, but I'm not really sure.  Well, in the midst of stringing them, one of the little girls used her limited English to talk to me.  This is how our conversation went:
Girl: "Hello.  Hello.  What is your name?"
Me: "Hello!  My name is Meredith, or Merry." (Merry/Mary is way easier for everyone to say here, so I'm reverting back to my childhood nickname)
Girl: "What is the name of your josik?" ('josik' means husband in Arabic)
Me: "Uh, ana la josi." (Roughly: I don't have a husband.)
Girl: "Lish???" (Why?)
Me: "Uh...we don't get married that young."
Girl: "Hello hello.  What is the name of your baby?"
Me: "La baby."

It was the most bizarre conversation, and it was with a 5-year-old.  Highly amusing.

Alright, I'm off to take a nap or watch some sweet Arabic TV with the roommates.  It's volleyball night.  Every Wednesday, the internationals get together for volleyball at Augusta Victoria on the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem.  So, we're trucking it into J'lem for the evening.  

Much love,
Meredith

First day of school!

Alrighty, so, I feel I need to blog after today.  It was my first "official" day at Dar Al-Kalima School in Beit Lehem.  I spent the day following the teacher who teaches English to 6-10th graders (I think).  I watched 7th, 8th, and 9th grade classes today.  

The first class I watched was in 9th grade, which proved to be extremely interesting.  They were working out of a workbook and their comprehension questions were on a story about two ex-pats.  So, the class was discussing reasons for moving out of one's birth country and living in another country.  As the teacher was waiting for answers, I thought about my answers.  My answers were like, volunteering, falling in love, wanting to see a different part of the world, etc.  The students' answers were a bit different.  The first thing one boy said was to find a better life.  The answers that proceeded included getting a passport for another country, getting a job, getting out to be free, finding someone to marry to get a different passport, etc, etc.  The teacher then asked if that seemed correct to me.  I was shocked.  I felt so put on the spot, because these kids were giving these intense life reasons for being in a different country, and here I was, living in Palestine almost for fun.  Like, I have the golden ticket here.  International passports equal extreme, extreme privelege.  Literally, there are towns that can only harvest their olive fields with international help, or else they'll be killed by Israeli settlers.  I somehow stuttered out an answer that I hope conveyed affirming their correct answers, but also acknowledging we're from different parts of the world.  I felt ashamed of my golden ticket at that moment.  It was in that moment that I realized growing up in an occupied land, or even in a developing country, is hard.  It stinks.  I would bet money that very few 9th graders in the United States would list getting a better passport as a reason to move to another country.

The English-tutoring was hard in the classes today, because they're learning English in a very different way than how I learned it.  Some of it was more strict English learning, like the 'past simple' and such, that I can't even remember.  It was also strange to see a teacher making so many grammatical and spelling mistakes in an English classroom.  Granted, she had phenomenal English and Arabic was her first language.  It was just different.  

My favorite lesson of the day was watching how she taught the seventh graders.  She actually left me with them for a few minutes, so she could go grab her books.  She told me to talk to them or play a game or something.  I was totally on the spot, so I just sort of introduced myself and told them about Pennsylvania and the United States.  They asked me my hobbies and such.  I told them that I like swimming, photography, traveling, etc.  One boy asked if I liked to sing.  I said yes, but with some hesitation.  The entire class was immediately rallied into cheering for me to sing something...anything!  I was panicked!  I took voice lessons in college and I love, love, LOVE singing, but I have the worst stage fright.  Like, my voice lessons juries usually ended in me feeling like I was going to throw up, after completely bombing a semester's worth of work on a song.  It's weird.  They continued insisting though, and herds of children are pretty intimidating.  I couldn't think of a song that they would appreciate hearing with the language difference.  They suggested that I sing 50 Cent, Eminem, or even Backstreet Boys.  I couldn't sing either of the first two out of appropriateness and I refrained from BSB for humorsake.  I finally suggested Happy Birthday and they were thrilled.  So...I sang Happy Birthday to a group of Palestinian seventh graders.  They cheered and were pleased, I guess.  I felt like a moron though.  The teacher walked in about 30 seconds after I finished singing and she was upset that she hadn't heard me sing.  She started the lesson, which involved each student telling the class who his or her favorite singer is and why.  Several mentioned Arabic singers that I didn't recognize.  One guy started talking about his favorite singer and I couldn't really understand him...until I heard "Smack that."  Yes, yes, my friends.  This seventh grade Palestinian student's favorite musician is Akon and his favorite song is Smack That.  I won't spell it out here, but Google the lyrics for "Smack That" if you don't know it.  Or, just assume that it was a song I was not expecting to hear in a 7th-grade classroom.  Well!  This continued!  The teacher asked for a volunteer to sing it.  So, I watched a very small 7th-grade Palestinian boy sing "Smack That" in a very dry voice.  I laughed...a lot.  The volunteer singing continued.  The teacher actually came over and asked me to sing again and I hesitated.  She asked me to sing something, 'anything' (I don't what's with this group and 'anything'!).  So, I debated and debated, and finally decided to sing "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid.  I figured I knew most of the words and the movie was likely to have been dubbed in Arabic.  Well...I sang...and they couldn't understand me, but said I had a beautiful voice.  It was strange though.  The best part of this lesson came after my singing though.  This one boy volunteered to sing in front of the class.  He composed himself, then began to sing.  "Every night in my dreams..."  YES!  This, again, 7th-grade Palestinian boy sang "My Heart Will Go On" by Celine Dion.  I lost it.  Straight up.  I was in hysterics and crying.  The teacher was laughing, the entire class was laughing, and the boy himself was laughing.  We were all hysterical for a good five minutes.  One boy even fell out of his chair!  I don't really know if they thought it was as funny as I did, or if they were laughing because I thought it was so funny.  Regardless, it was a good afternoon.  

Schools here are slightly intense though.  There is a very different style of classroom management.  In fact, my one roommate said it best: it looks like it's waiting for a lawsuit.  Kids are able to run around a lot more.  There are no single-file lines wandering through the hallways.  They don't eat lunch at school, because their big meal is at 2:30pm or so, which is after school lets out.  They snack here and there at their breaks and recesses.  This means lots of children running around, munching on pitas, and just being generally chaotic.  I watched a teacher hustle a group of 9th-grade boys back into their classroom, because they were carrying the human anatomy body, with removable organs, out into the hallway.  I was reminded at this moment that we're really all the same.  We may have different hair color or religions, but in the end, we're all 9th-grade boys carrying the science dummy out into the hallway.

It was a crazy, hectic day.  I felt like I was hit by a bus.  It was good though.  I'll be riding the school bus to and from work.  It's pretty normal actually.  Many teachers ride the buses with the students.  I'll be getting my bus about a block up the hill at 7:05am and I'll be home by like, 2:45pm.  It's not bad! 

Oh, I did want to post a thought out here for anyone with a connection to students.  The teacher I spent the day asked if I'd be able to arrange a pen-pal type arrangement with any students in the United States.  So, to those of you reading my blogs, let me know if you have anyone that would be willing to work with me on this.  She asked this in the 9th grade class, but it's primarily to work on English writing skills and to learn about culture, so it could probably be any grade.  Thanks!

Quick note about our apartment and nearby facillities: we're less than a block away from a market that has gelato and cheese.  Good cheese.  In fact, we bought so much last night (it was only like a pound...but that's a lot in this culture), that the shop keeper told us we were his "best cheese shoppers."  He was the first Palestinian in Amnesty International and coordinates the Palestinian AI branch...or what's left of it.  The IDF bombed their offices in 2002.  Literally, they bombed the office in Gaza and Ramallah within an hour of each other.  Crazy.

Alright, much love, but that 7:05am bus ride is coming sooner and sooner.  I hope this was amusing or informative or both.  I rambled a lot tonight.  Sorry.

Dear God,
Thanks for this crazy stressful day.  Thanks for my apartment and new friends.  Thank you for protecting and loving me.  Please be with the Palestinian people to continue to instill hope.  All this I ask in your Son's precious and holy name, Amen.

Quick picture explanation

Pictures take a long time for me to fidget with, so here are the captions...

(Left to right, top to bottom)

Random camel in someone's backyard.  It's the only camel I've seen and notice the garbage everywhere.  Such is life in Israel and the West Bank.

The sunset over the Mediterranean Sea at Tel Aviv.  It's the first time I've ever seen the sun set on water!!

A view from our guest house in Beit Jala.

The mosque and church steeples are like, less than 100 yards apart in Beit Jala.

A picture of me standing at Herodian.  The Judean Desert in the background and the Dead Sea is back there somewhere.

A picture of a church right outside the church of the Holy Sepulchre.

Ancient stone slab roads that are in the first site of the Via Dolorosa.  This was likely walked on by Christ.

This is a view from Yad Vashim, which is the Holocaust Museum.  It's at the end of the tour and looks out on the land, where you can see how the Israelis have built a wall and settlements.  Interesting.

A view of the souk in the old city of Jerusalem decked out for Ramadan.  A cannon goes off at sunset every night to break fast, then fireworks go off.  Sweeeeet.

A very typical Jerusalem sunset.

Pictures!

48 Rolls of heart-printed toilet paper and a string of tourist postcards.

Alright, so, I've been hounded lately for new blog posts. Sorry I've been MIA for awhile. I have had Internet access sporadically, but I've been super busy just experiencing different things. We've continued to meet with tons of NGOs and other grass roots organizations that have presented a variety of perspectives on the Israeli occupation. I don't have my notes with me right now, so I'll have to blog specifically on those later, but here's what I got for now...

We visited all of our volunteer sites on Monday. We started at the kindergarten where Paul will be working and I was instantly jealous. They were super adorable and fun! It's the kindergarten attached to the Augusta Victoria compound, so a lot of ex-patriot kids and such. Our next stop was to Kendra's site, which is the Environmental Education Center at Talitha Cumi. It was beautiful and I was jealous again. I learned there that the imposition of the Wall not only causes major issues for people, but also animals. I never stopped to think about the number of species that can't fly over a wall. Animals, such as hyenas, are then trapped on one side of the Wall and more likely to enter into urban space. I would probably have a heart attack if I saw a hyena strolling down the road in Bethlehem. After Kendra's site, we went onto my site at Dar Al-Kalima School. It was profound. The school itself is really colorful and just has an amazing vibe. When we were touring, we stopped to visit the kindergarten room. They all wear these really adorable purple smocks to show their grade. They looked really confused when we walked into the room, but after awhile, one of the little boys came out of the extra room with the teacher's aide. He was holding a little plastic bin of candies. He reached up to each of us with this beautiful smile to offer us a piece of candy. He didn't know us, nor did he know how to speak to us, but this four-year old understood to be hospitable. He did it so willingly. It really brought tears to my eyes. I can't even explain it. We toured the rest of the facility, which includes health and wellness center. The philosophy is that holistic health is especially important, despite the occupation. There is a weight room with several treadmills, a swimming pool, and space to dance, aerobicize, and lots more. It also has a psychologist, which I learned that seeing a psychologist in this culture labels you as a crazy person. Granted, we're not that much different in the States, but it appears to be even more taboo here. We toured the rest of the facilities and the other sites. They're all amazing places to volunteer!

I feel like I have lots of random information to pass on. We've been taking Arabic lessons. I can hold a basic conversation with someone in Arabic. It's tough, because there are some really tough sounds to make with your throat. Oh, and Bethlehem is definitely not said, "Bethlehem." The town is Beit Lehem, which means, 'House of Bread.' Speaking of Beit Lehem, that's where my home is for the year! We got to visit our flat today. It's a three bedroom, two bath, first floor apartment. It came pre-furnished, so it's pretty sweet. We chose our bedrooms, which was painless for me (nobody wanted the room I wanted). We went household shopping afterwards. We bought 48 rolls of pink toilet paper with heart prints on it; I'm pretty stoked. We bought some other random things, but the toilet paper was the most amusing. I was able to start hanging my pictures and things, and put my Q-tips down. I've been saying for the last two weeks that I was looking forward to my apartment so I could put my Q-tips down. It's the simple stuff that makes me happy. Anywho, our apartment is sweet. We can see the Wall and an Israeli settlement from our porch, along with the valley of Beit Lehem.

We're actually only about three blocks from the Beit Lehem checkpoint at the Wall. It's scary really. The Wall is this massive structure blocking people from entering and exiting cities and places in their own country. The Wall is being built to specifically trap villages and cut off other villages. Literally, the wall is being built to bottleneck Israeli settlements. I should probably explain that the Israeli settlements are bad. Yes, I'm slightly biased. Here's the deal: Israel is occupying the West Bank. Israel wants it's own Jewish state, which means eliminating Arabs (who are Christian and Muslim, primarily) from Israel proper. The West Bank, or the Arab land, is being separated from Jerusalem. The Green Line was the line that was internationally recognized as the separation between West Bank and Israel in 1948. Jerusalem was to be neutral territory, or it's own entity, similar to the Vatican City. Jerusalem is now split between West Jerusalem, the Jewish portion, and East Jerusalem, the Arab portion. The West Bank is being severely separted from Israel and East Jerusalem.  The settlements are then groups of Israeli Jews that move into the West Bank by force.  They show up and live there.  They come for one of two reasons: for the belief that there should a Jewish state or for economic purposes (it's cheaper to live in the hills of the West Bank).  Settlements end up taking Palestinian land and attracting soldiers and checkpoints to protect them.  The Wall is being built around settlements at points, to keep them inside Jerusalem proper.  I've mentioned before about the water issues, but it's also the idea that soldiers stand around with machine guns to monitor their "security." Please read the news with a grain of salt and research a variety of newspapers. One of speakers pointed out that the news will portray the side that Palestinians through stones at Israeli soldiers and fight back with violence. Think about this: why were the soldiers there to begin with? Palestinians are not violent people, but when you cage in a group of people and force them to live in terror and violence, they will bite you if you step in that cage. There are 608 checkpoints in the West Bank, ranging from armed stations to road blocks to 'earth mounds.' The IDF (Israeli Defense Forces) seriously bulldozes piles of dirt to block roads, so Palestinians can't drive on them. 608 checkpoints. 608 places where Israeli soldiers have stopped you from moving freely within your own country. These aren't all checkpoints on the border, I should point out. These are checkpoints through the country too. Like, picture driving down highway 119 and having to stop because there's a massive pile of dirt. You have to go around it. Then, get on say, 22, only to find that 22 is only for people from Ohio. Then, after avoiding 22, you get back on 119 and head back towards say, 403. There's a post at the junction of 403 and 119 where 12 soldiers who are between the ages of 18 and 22, holding machine guns, and interrogate you as to where you are going and why you're going there. This continues until they decide that you don't have the proper ID, so you're not allowed in Marion Center (sorry, it's the road arrangement I chose for this analogy). You're not allowed to visit your grandparents or your children, because they're on the other side of that wall. That wall? The wall that separates families and makes it impossible for people to work? That WALL, which is often referred to as a 'security fence' by the IDF, is paid for by the United States. Yes, my friends, your tax dollars are paying to build a 9m high concrete wall, topped with fencing and barbed wire, that is cutting people off from their jobs and their families. I apologize. That was my very biased rant. I wish I could be unbiased, but I can't. This occupation is ridiculous. I apologize.

So, on a lighter note, we did some site-seeing yesterday.  Mom, you should probably stop reading here.  I know you won't, but please be patient and remember that life is an experience.  "Life is not a journey to the grave with the intentions of arriving in a well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, throroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming, 'Wow!  What a ride!!!'"  That being said, this story ended well.  Do not panic.

Yesterday, we were strolling through the marketplace in Beit Lehem, checking out the different stands.  I'm not a fan of animal carcasses hanging in these open air markets, by the way.  It was just the girls in the marketplace and we knew we were taking a taxi back to Abraham's Herberge, which is the hotel we're staying in while in Beit Jala.  We approached a group of cab drivers and asked about getting a ride.  They told us that we needed to take two cars to fit the five of us and that each car would be 20 NIS.  The conversion rate is $3.56 right now, so it really wasn't that bad.  Regardless, we split up into our roomate groups actually.  Nikki, Marta, and I were making small talk with our driver with our limited Arabic and his limited English.  It was really unique.  We did the best we could with communicating.  About half way back to the hotel, he pulled out a strand of connected postcards.  He started pointing out different sites on the cards and asking if we had been there.  We couldn't really understand what he was saying, so he called someone on his cellphone.  Now, let me explain, that driving in Israel/West Bank is like, the terrifying driving you see in Rome or other European areas.  Let's add hills...lots of them...and really steep.  Now, let's add small children that pop out into the streets.  Now, let's add our taxi driver...driving...on the hills...and holding the postcard chain...and his cellphone.......my life flashed before my eyes.  Regardless, his phone call was to a friend of his who spoke English.  His friend told Nikki (yes, Kamel, our driver, handed his cell phone to Nikki) that Kamel would like to take us to Shepherd's Fields.  It was only about 10 minutes away from Beit Jala and we didn't have to pay him anything extra.  We looked at each other, had a minor moment of fear, and then had a huge moment of faith.  We went.  We arrived safely at Shepherd's Fields.  This is where they have built small church to recognize the site that they believe the shepherds came from to stand watch over Christ's birth.  It was phenomenal.  It was a tiny church by the Franciscans, I think.  We walked back to the car and he called his friend again.  Nikki spoke to him again, where he asked if we walked to go to Herodian.  Let me also tell you, that we didn't know what either of these places were before we visited.  We really debated over this.  Kamel gave me the phone, because I was concerned over time.  He insisted that it was only another 10 minutes and only 15 minutes total from Beit Jala.  Kamel was honest up to this point, so we weren't sure.  We debated and then we lived with faith.  We went onto Herodian.  We drove through BEAUTIFUL Palestinian countryside to eventually arrive at Herodian.  This, in a nutshell, is an old fortress built for King Herod.  Literally.  Herod.  We weren't able to see the inside of the fortress, because it was closed, but we did walk around the parking lot.  We looked out and could see the Judean Desert and I think, the Dead Sea.  It was just piles of these beautiful desert mountains/hills.  It was, AMAZING!  We got back in the cab and drove back to Beit Jala.  Kamel kindly taught us to count to ten in Arabic, though I can't remember the numbers right now.  He also was highly amused when I was trying to ask what the word for small is.  I tried an analogy, which didn't work I guess.  I said, "Bint mish mara, walad mish zalame" while using hand language.  This menas, "Girl not woman, boy not man."  I was trying to get the word for small and big out of him, but I think he thought I was asking his relationship status, because he looked a little surprised and grabbed his ring finger.  It was really funny!  We took a detour through Manger Square in Beit Lehem, where he introduced us to the guy that we had talked to in English on the phone.  He offered us coffee and tea in his shop, as most Palestinians do.  We arrived safely back at our hotel and gave him 50 NIS for the trip.  He seemed appreciative and gave us his card for future travels.  So, it was scary at moments, but it ended up being really cool.

Alright, folks, I think I'm written out.  I'm going to hopefully post some pictures in a separate blog after this.  It will save me from playing with the pictures in the HTML format.  Sorry, I'm lazy.  Anyway, I'll try to blog again soon.  We should have more down time, because we officially move into our apartment on Sunday and I start at the school on Monday.  By the way, the principal mentioned swim lessons again.  I'm pretty sure I'm teaching swim lessons in Palestine.  Woot!  Oh, the pool?  It's the only one in the Bethlehem area.  There are more pools than that in a settlement.  We went to the beach at Tel Aviv last Sunday, which was beautiful!!!  The water was pretty warm and really salty.  Anyway, I'm alive and well.  I'm looking forward to starting my volunteer work and just getting more aquainted.  PLEASE post questions or comments if you'd like to know more!!!

Much love,
Meredith

"A country is not just what it does--it is also what it tolerates." --Kurt Tucholsky

Marhaba!

Marhaba!  (Hello in Arabic)

I was posed these questions as a message on Facebook, so I wanted to answer them here.  PLEASE, if you ever have any questions for clarification, just post it as a comment.  I would love to respond so that others can learn.  Anywho, here are the questions:

Are all Isreali's Christian or Jews and are all Palastinianes Muslim or is there a mix of every religion in each side? Have you asked any of the Isrealies what the history is on their side?

Answer: There is a mix of all three religions on both sides. Palestinians are predominantly Muslim. Israelis are primarily Jews, but there are all three religions represented.  Muslims speak Arabic and Jews speak Hebrew here.  So, we're taking Arabic lessons, because Muslims are predominant.  In fact, the Old City in Jerusalem is divided into four quarters and used to house a different religion/culture in each: Jewish, Muslim, Christian, and Armenian.  The Christian section is pretty much dying down.  The population here is less than 2% Christian.  The issue that is happening in Palestine is that there are Jewish settlements that are forming.  These settlements are intentional Jewish communities filtering into the Muslim communities.  

The only Israeli I've actually talked to is an Israeli who was born in the United States and moved here for college and remained here.  She is a tour guide with the Alternative Tours program; we did a political tour of the region with her, which is much different than your standard, 'follow the umbrella' tour.  Anyway, her perspective was still biased towards Palestinians.  The Israeli perspective is important. They see the wall as security. It, in theory, keeps the "terrorists" out, who bomb their buses and such.  This is difficult though, because there are still points where people can cross without anyone stopping them, but they're way out of the way.  This means, the checkpoints really just inconvenience everyday travel for people.  It can take two hours to get to work in the morning, for a site 15 minutes away.  If someone wants to bomb Israeli buses, they're going to take the time and effort to travel much further out of the way to go cross the Green Line (the line where the Wall is being built to divide West Bank from Israel).  I'm not really sure. I haven't heard many solid arguments for the Israeli side, seeing as there is so much oppression on the Palestinian side. The Palestinians can take up to two hours getting somewhere that should take 15 minutes, in their OWN "territory", since they're not seen as a country. Like, that's not even crossing to Israel.  The big issue with the Wall is also that there is a long disputed history over whose territory is whose.  Check the Wikipedia article for a better explanation, but basically, Israel is taking over more than 50% of the land, which was originally discussed in the 1948 plan (I think).  Palestine was originally supposed to consist of half of the land, including the West Bank (of the Jordan River) and Gaza Strip.  

Does that help at all?  I hope so.

Some other random notes for the day...
We stopped at the Palestinian Authority Compound (their center of government, basically) to visit Yasser Arafat's tomb.  This progressed into one of the Palestinian soldiers to get in our van to show us where the entrance to the tomb was.  Crazy.  He must of been rather high-ranking too, because EVERYONE saluted him.  We had to stop at this gate and he told us that we had to wait to enter the compound, because the president was coming.  So, we ended up being about 25 yards from the President of the Palestinian National Authority.  Sweet.  All in a day.  

We had some really negative interactions today though.  For instance, today was the first day of Ramadan, which, if you don't know, is a major religious holiday for Muslims.  It includes fasting from sun-up to sun-down.  Fasting means no food or drink...at all.  We were in Ramallah for a meeting with a NGO called MIFTA, and we went looking for lunch.  This was difficult, because many of the restaurants and shops close for Ramadan observance.  They re-open later at night, when Muslims can eat.  We were recommended to go to this one place.  We walked in, were seated, given menus, and watched an order of hamburgers and Cokes go to the booth back in the corner.  We were the only people there besides said hamburger booth people.  We looked at the menus for awhile, only to have the guy who seated us come over and tell us that they weren't serving food today in observance of Ramadan.  He seemed to feel bad and offered to call around and find another place for us.  He called and found nothing.  This really struck me as odd.  Something didn't line up.  I really felt like we were being discriminated against.  I wasn't really offended, I suppose, but more just surprised. 

The second distressing part of the afternoon was the checkpoint.  I don't really know how long it took us to get through the checkpoint, because I was asleep until the point Martin asked us for our passports to get ready.  We were easily there for 40 minutes only about 6 cars from the booth at that point.  While sitting there, we had a man approach the van and start cleaning the windows.  Martin yelled for him to stop and 'No, thank you' in Arabic, but he continued.  After he finished, we did give him 2 sheckels, which isn't much, but it's all we could find...and it was actually unwelcomed.  This was fine.  Then, another man started wiping all of the first man's streaks off the glass.  He came around the window and asked for more money.  We knew they were together.  Martin told him that we didn't have any money and that he had paid the first guy.  He persisted.  Martin actually put the window down to explain this and the guy put his hand in the window, so Martin couldn't put it up (without hurting him).  This scared me, I'm not going to lie.  He eventually took his hand out, walked around the entire van and stared at each of us.  We all looked straight ahead.  We were trying not to acknowledge him, which was difficult to ignore another human being.  This was especially so, when we learned today that the unemployment rate in Palestine is 50%.  He kept walking though and was eventually so frustrated that he punched the van.  This was pretty intense.  

Alright, I think that's all I have to say for now.  It's been a rough day.  It's the first time I've actually felt out of my comfort zone, which is good.  God needs to rock me and shake me.

Here I am, Lord.  Is it I, Lord?  I have heard you calling in the night.  I will go, Lord, if you lead me.  I will hold your people in my heart.