Alright, I'm finally sitting down to write this blog post. I'm not promising coherence or any sort of order, because it just isn't going to happen. I've broken up my thoughts into a couple of topics and I'll write about each of them from there. Yalla.
Bishops Academy
Some of you may know that the Bishops' Academy 2009 was held in Israel/Palestine this year. These are yearly conferences that are typically held in the States. We, as YAGMs, were invited to participate with them this year, which proved to be an AMAZING experience! First of all, the bishops of the ELCA and ELCIC (Evangelical Lutheran Church In Canada) are awesome, awesome people. They're so much fun and so respectful. We had 49 bishops, I think, and a collection of spouses and ELCA staff, which meant we were assisting 89 people through our tiny town of Bethlehem and in Jerusalem. It was really nice to talk to these church leaders and have them genuinely interested in our work as volunteers/missionaries here, but to also have them experiencing it.
The first point I want to talk about within the BA is the way Israel treated them. They were certainly given a red-carpet treatment, which made me nauseous. I know as a country or figurehead or whatever, that you need to represent yourself well, but it was really unsettling to know they greeted the bishops at the airport and Allenby/Al Karema/King Hussein Bridge Crossing (into Jordan) with absolutely no issues. For instance, I went to meet the bishops who had spent some time in Jordan before the main conference started. We were escorted through a special terminal in customs, which was closed off to everyone else. When the bishops came in, there was nobody there, minus themselves. Their passports were taken and stamped, without them having to argue their case to be there. They sat in a VIP room and relaxed. Let me establish that my concern is not over the fact that the bishops deserved this treatment; they most CERTAINLY did. My concern is over the fact that when I came through the Allenby/Al Karema/King Hussein Bridge Crossing a month ago, I was severely questioned for my purpose of being in Israel. "Why are you here?" I have an official volunteer visa, so I said, "I'm here volunteering with the Lutheran Church." My lovely customs officer asked, "Is that some sort of religious organization or something?" So, that should give you a clue as to my 10 minutes of questioning.
While it was a point of contempt to be standing outside this VIP terminal with Israeli security, it ended up allowing for a fascinating interaction. I was introduced to a person that serves as a significant member of the Israeli governing forces. I won't say who it was for respect and confidentiality. This person greeted me and asked how I liked living there. Now, I've learned over the past 4 1/2 months, that what I say to whom depends on who that "whom" is. So, knowing this person was significantly Israeli, I responded with my shorter list of responses. "I really like living here." This person asked what I did. I said that I was a volunteer with the Lutheran Church. This person asked if I felt safe there, considering everything with Gaza, and how I felt about Gaza. I was curious where this conversation would go, so I said I felt safe enough and that I didn't feel I could fairly judge either side, since I'm American and I know my country has its own issues. This was not a lie, per se, but I do tend to lean towards the side of the Palestinian people, whose death toll is up to at least 900 people, that I know of. This person, hereby referred to as Jamie, began telling me their opinion on the situation. I will list a few of the key points. This was mostly with my self-control in prompting Jamie to explain more or whatnot with my counseling experience--go SHU Psychology degree!
"Gaza would be fine if someone would just take an architect in there and show them what they have. I mean, they're living in a Garden of Eden and they call it Hell. They've MADE it Hell! An architect could show them what they could do. They could have restaurants and hotels and hotels with restaurants with top-floor viewing places. They have beautiful virgin beaches, but they'd have to take the landmines out. Did you know they put landmines in their beaches?"
My response (not actually spoken to Jamie): Gaza has landmines in their beaches because your navy won't allow medical supplies in, so they're not getting help, only ground attacks. They'll probably work on your hotel/restaurant plan as soon as you stop bombing their hospitals, schools, greenhouses, etc.
"The whole conflict in Gaza would end if they would just stop firing at us! If they stop, then everything will be over."
What is the death toll again? Okay, just checking. Let me also add, this conversation was specifically held on the day that Israel bombed the UN school, or at least the first one, that had been established as a safe-house for people to leave their homes for.
"Our soldiers have to go in there. They're being forced to go into, into TERRORLAND! Those people are terrorists and our soldiers have to deal with them."
"Hamas is abandoning their people. The people just sit down in the street and listen. Hamas promised to give them like, $4.50, to live on for a day, when they need $5. They do what Hamas tells them. They need to escape from the bombing, but they won't." I interjected, "Where would you suggest they go?" in a genuinely curious, completely unbiased statement. "They can go to the south!" Again, I interjected, "As in, Egypt?" "No! Egypt doesn't want those terrorists! They shut the tunnel so they wouldn't come in and attack their country!"
First, people are probably listening to Hamas for that amount of money, because it's the only guarantee they'll get food on their tables. Is it right? No. Is it good? No. Is it survival? Yes. Secondly, Egypt didn't shut their border. Israel blew up the tunnel.
"You need to read more, and not just listen to Aljazeera English. Make right moral decisions and think about this. Our people are going into Terrorland."
I think I listed my favorite points from this discussion. It was an hour long, literally, and I was quite proud for listening to Jamie's beliefs and statements, as unsettling as it was.
We went on a tour of the Old City in Jerusalem with them, which is something I haven't done yet. I mean, I've spent a lot of time in Jerusalem and gone site-seeing there, but not with a tour guide. We took a tour during our orientation, but it was with a "special guide," who took us to the president of the Palestinian Coca Cola Company's house. We went on the roof and saw the city from there. During our walking tour with the bishops, we stopped at a church called St. Anne's. It was built on the site of Hannah or Anna's birth, Mary's mother, and it's next to the Bethseda Pool, where Jesus healed a paralytic. The really neat part about visiting here, besides the obvious biblical history, was that there was a young Italian choir visiting the church, when I went in with my group of bishops. They were singing, just to hear the acoustics, which were phenomenal. They were AMAZING! We asked them to sing again and thanked them lots. Then, as they were walking out the door, one of the bishops was like, "We should sing something for them!" So, there I stood, with a group of American and Canadian bishops in St. Anne's Church, in the Old City of Jerusalem, next to the site where Jesus healed the paralytic, singing "Jesus, Remember Me" from the Taize Community. It was profound.
Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom. Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.
Another BA adventure, was traveling to a Shabbat service in West Jerusalem. We had actually moved all the bishops to their hotels in Bethlehem, by this point of the trip. We had to then travel through the checkpoint for the service. Some had gone through with me for the Orthodox Christmas Eve service at the Church of the Nativity--awesome, by the way. We had a really easy time getting through for that, because we just drove through on the bus. We didn't even show passports. We left for the Shabbat service, which is the Friday night Sabbath service in Judaism. We pulled up to the checkpoint and the soldier argued with our bus driver in Hebrew. This was a little awkward, because I was in the tumbler/tour guide seat, and the soldier was on my side. Plus, I only know a few words of Hebrew (Baka tov, shalom, sleemick, etc), so I didn't understand what was happening. As the bus door shut, the soldier looked at me, and in English said, "I'm so sorry." The driver explained that we had to walk through. The bus still drove through, but empty. I was upset, because we were already a little late and the whole idea of a checkpoint irritates me, but I was also thrilled, because this meant that Israel wasn't giving the bishops special treatment. The government had been pretty insistent on knowing where our group was at all times. We got off the bus and started through the checkpoint. We were the only ones there, so we started walking through. I went first, and I think one bishop and his spouse followed me. They wouldn't let anymore through until we went onto the next passport check. I tried to argue this, explaining I was with a group of tourists that had never been here. She yelled at me and told me they'd be okay. Fine. We went to the next passport stop, where a Muslim woman and her four children, were having an argument with the IDF soldier. She kept holding up her identification papers and he kept shaking his head. I've seen this plenty of times before, but it doesn't make it any less unsettling. This woman was CLEARLY a terrorist, so I'm thankful he wouldn't let her through. That was sarcasm. He motioned her to the side and motioned the few bishops and spouses from the other post through the line. They went through, and stood on the other side of the booth, rather than going down to our happy little tour bus parked out front. I stayed on the other side to motion everyone else through. At this point, a whole bus from Jerusalem had unloaded laborers and they were coming through the checkpoint. Part of the problem at this spot, is that there is no official exit and entrance line, which means it's a zipper-effect, of who wants to get through more. The bishops backed up and let the other people through, which was creating a longer line on the West Bank side, and still watching the herd of people on the Israel side. There was a larger group, maybe 12-15 people, watching the booth. Finally, one of the IDF soldiers came and opened the other booth and motioned our group through. He just smiled and waved us through the turnstyle. He didn't even look at passports. I was livid, but so thankful that the bishops experiencing the different levels of the checkpoint--rudeness, denying a mother and kids, special treatment for internationals/tour groups, etc, etc. The most powerful moment for me though, was watching these prestigious church leaders from two countries forming a wall of people to just watch. That's it. They stood there. They didn't argue. They didn't get in the way. They stood there, in solidarity. It brought tears to my eyes. We may have our golden-ticket passports, but we have the ability to stand there and show that we're aware of what's happening, and that we're not okay with it.
Again, this is totally out of order, but we were turned away earlier in the week from the Al Aqsa Mosque. This is the mosque at the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem. We were lined up outside of the local prayer entrance (not where normal tourists/internationals go). Bishop Younan, ELCJHL, had previously arranged to meet with the Imam, who is the religious leader for a mosque. We stood for awhile, while Bishop Younan and Bishop Hansen had a conversation with the Waqf, the religious Muslim endowment that rules the Temple Mount, and the IDF. I don't really know what all happened. I know we all had to turn around and have our backs to the entrance at one point. I also know that when we turned back around, Bishop Hansen and Bishop Younan did not look happy as they told us to go back to Redeemer, the Lutheran church in the Old City of Jerusalem, and we'd talk about there. I guess what happened, in a very abbreviated form, is that there was a debate over allowing our group in, because there was a concern we'd start riots. Don't ask me. Bishops must SMELL like riot-ing folk. Upon trying to argue this, the IDF threatened to tear gas the entire group of us. Again, I really don't know how all of this happened, but apparently we were pretty close to getting tear-gassed.
The day we left Jerusalem with the bishops to move to Bethlehem, I was standing at the door of one bus, showing them which bus was going where. Two men showed up in a car, rather quickly, and jumped out. One went to my bus and the other went to the other bus. The bishops were all on the bus and waiting to leave. He approached and asked me if I wanted to buy three knit hats that said, "Jerusalem," for ten sheckels. I answered him in Arabic by telling him, "No, thank you. I don't want them and they don't want them." He tried to get on the bus and I told him to stop. I don't want to impede the bishops from spending their money on souvenirs here, nor do I want to inhibit them from putting money into the Palestinian economy. I was not comfortable with allowing street vendors, and others later, onto the buses. Bishops were more than welcome to get off and deal with them there. I did my best to explain this to the man and that I didn't want him on the bus. He became visibly angry and yelled at me, "You don't speak for all of them there are 50 there and you're only 1!" I acknowledged his statement and tried to explain that they could come off the bus. He yelled again and stormed off, "You're just like Bush! You hate the Palestinian people! Go back to Bush!" I think he said some other things as he left. I turned back to the bus and looked up at the windows, and many of the bishops and spouses were giving me thumbs up and smiling. I got on and explained what had happened. They were all relieved that I didn't let him on the bus, so I did the right thing. Unfortunately, this is the first time where I've had someone accuse me of not having pure intentions. In all fairness, from his perspective, I was leading another tour group of Americans, whipping in to visit sites, but going home to our comfortable hotel rooms. He wouldn't give me the time to explain that I was I volunteer IN Palestine. That was rough.
We took the bishops to Hebron one day. Hebron is one of the cities that you probably hear about in the news, in regards to settlers or violence in the West Bank. Hebron is completely surrounding by settlers. I can't remember if I've explained settlers before, so here's a refresher: When you hear "settlers," it's referring to Israeli Jews that move illegally into areas within the West Bank. There are two types of settlers: ideological and practical settlers. Ideological settlers are those who move into these areas to intentionally take over Palestinian land. Practical settlers are those who move, because housing is cheaper in settlements. The issue with settlers taking over this land, besides the obvious taking of land, is that when they move in, then the IDF has a reason to protect them. The Wall is then built around larger settlements, and there are IDF soldiers patrolling to protect them, because "our people need protection." Settlers, and all Israelis, are allowed to carry weapons openly. It's rather strange to see a young mother, pushing a baby carriage, with a semi-automatic rifle strapped to her back, for "protection." Hebron has suffered a lot from settlers. In fact, one clear, concrete example of this is the Old City. It's a ghost-town. There are very few shops open anymore, because it's too dangerous. My favorite glass and ceramics artist is in Hebron, the one where I blew my own glass the one time, actually had his shop in the Old City initially, but got tired of running back and putting out the fire that settlers set inside of it, every day. Also, there's a combination of nets, chainlink fence, and other protective layers on top of the streets in the Old City, because settlers throw garbage down from the upper floors, in buildings they've commandeered. When I say garbage, I mean, food, chunks of metal, glass bottles filled with urine, etc.
While in Hebron, we actually went to the Ibrahimi Mosque. It's the fourth most sacred place to Muslims, following Mecca, Medina, and the Al Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem. It's the place where the tombs of Abraham, Sarah, Rebecca, Isaac, Leah, and Jacob, are housed. Rachel, Jacob's favored wife, is buried near the Wall at the Gilo checkpoint. In fact, Rachel's Tomb is on the Bethlehem side, by the Wall is built out and around it. Ibrahimi's Mosque, or the Tomb of the Patriarchs, is also the mosque that experienced a massacre, just a few years ago. One settler entered the mosque during prayer time, threw a grenade, and opened fire. 48 were killed, and 300 injured. A group of men eventually took down the settler, and killed him. Here's an article on the massacre. **I would like to note that I reviewed several articles about the massacre, and they report varying numbers of casualties. The first one I looked at a few weeks ago pointed out that a group of people were killed at the actual massacre, and more were killed later as a result of the fight post-massacre.
It was strange to be in this large, beautiful mosque, the first mosque I've ever been in, and see the patched bullet holes in the gorgeous tile work.
I don't really have any fantastic stories about these adventures, but just saying I went to these things sounds pretty cool: met with the chief Rabbis of Jerusalem, went to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Israel, and some other sweet stuff.
Another random thought is that, one of the bishops asked me how I felt about the soldiers on the streets here and am I afraid of that happening in the States. I answered her, without really thinking about this before, but that I'm not afraid of military presence in the States. I think we, as Americans, like to feel safe, but we don't want it to seem like it's unsafe. I mean, there are some malls that have snipers hiding in the columns at the front of stores, should they need to jump down and deal with an incident. We have video cameras...EVERYWHERE. We really do have a security presence, but a hidden one. I would venture to say that Palestine has one soldier on the street for every video camera we have at home.
Overall, the Bishops' Academy of 2009, was a phenomenal experience. It was awesome to sit and have conversations with the bishops and their spouses about my experiences here. They were able to see what I was talking about, and attach my stories to their own experiences. It was also really cool to see how much I've learned since being here! My bus, several times, asked me to use the microphone to talk about life here. I was rambling explanations about customs, language, schools, guilt-versus-shame, etc, etc, etc! It makes me so excited to come home and share all of this with you there. I know I've blogged a lot of my favorite stories, but I'm sure I'll have a few more, come July.
International vs. Palestinian
To switch gears from the Bishops' Academy, I want to talk about being an international here. I am blessed to be surrounded by a group of internationals doing very similar work. Specifically, there's a good group of young internationals that spend a lot of time together. This is by choice and by force. It's certainly by choice, because they're all wonderful people, and we get along very well. We're able to relate on a variety of levels--recent college graduates, living and working in Palestine, being Americans (the majority), and so forth. We're forced, in a way, to be together, because there are few Palestinians that we're able to just "hang out" with. I think this has to do with the family structure here, which is much closer than in the States. Men and women also are not friends commonly. There is something very uncomfortable about men and women being close. This is not to say that it doesn't happen, but by and large, it doesn't. One of my friend's neighbors told her that she doesn't even allow just her daughter and son alone in a room, because then the "devil" is the only other one there. They don't date here either, like we understand it. You basically get to know someone in school, then his family comes to her family's home to ask her for engagement. Once you're engaged, then you can date and be affectionate. Then, you get married. Add to this recipe, that women our age are typically married and have multiple children. One of the teachers I work with at the school is 25 and has had four kids. We have very different lives. It is a struggle though, with all of this, because we have made friends with a few Palestinians, but it's a delicate balance of what do we ask them to do. One in particular has had his family expressed concern with him spending time with internationals, because "what do they want with you??" They're nervous. I think part of it is being nervous that we're going to kidnap him and take him to America, so there's one less good, Christian Palestinian here. I think it's also just a culture thing. It is a struggle though.
Homemakers vs. External Employment
So, this may come as a totally random next topic, but being here has given me a very different understanding of what it means to be a "housewife." I'll admit, with no fault of my mother's, that I was raised in a single-parent family, where my mom worked full-time. She also always encouraged us to go to college and to have a career. I don't think she ever told me I wasn't allowed to be a homemaker, but she always made it clear that I would be going to college; thus, I had this sort of understanding that I would be settling for something less if I became a homemaker. **Please, let me express, that this is NOT a judgement, by any means. It truly is me acknowledging my "lens" of viewing the world.
While I've known homemakers all of my life, and I know there are some amazing ones reading this blog, I guess I never opened my eyes to what that means. I thought that by doing this, you had given up on your dreams or goals, so that you could be all-mom or all-wife, all the time. I've been interested in watching a number of women here, whose husbands are serving prominent roles in the international community here, who I would never describe as a "homemaker." I started thinking about it though, and they are. They are not externally employed, so much of their time is spent volunteering and supporting their husbands' work, without their own external employment. It has moved me to see how much power and how much love these women have. They haven't settled, nor have they given up. They have been very intentional in their choice to live life with their husbands in this way. They are some of the best-educated, articulate speakers, and loving entertainers. Their work is a ministry in itself, that I have benefited from many a time.
This has helped me in my own life, because I now think about the women at home who have chosen to dedicate their lives to their families. I don't see them as giving up or settling, but as making a conscious choice to care about something that they don't get paid for. And that, is extremely honorable.
This was further deepened by the number of women, and MEN, that are married to the bishops of North America. Serving as a church leader certainly involves both members of the marriage. It's not just a day job. I talked with one of the bishops about the differences in being a bishop versus a pastor. She told me that being a bishop is being a pastor to pastors, which is very understandable. She also said that something like, three out of four major conflicts she has had this year, were between pastors and their spouses over their role in the congregation. It was really interesting to see the number of people who married, some as young as right out of high school, men and women who were to become bishops. It allowed me to reflect on how much a person can change over the years in a marriage. I doubt many high school seniors picture marrying the National Bishop of the United States.
A somewhat related note that I can't remember if I've talked about before, is seeing women who are externally-employed here. I don't know the numbers, but the majority of women are not externally employed. I noticed one day though, that the women who are employed drive really nice cars. Why does this matter? It matters, because women who are employed instantly imply a double-income. In fact, if you look in the parking lot at school, all the female employees have really, really nice cars, and the male employees have dilapidated, "starter" cars--the kind parents buy 16 year-olds, knowing that they'll beat them up. It's just interesting to me that it's so clear.
Religion
The only other short story I have, for this extremely long blog post, is about getting a taxi the other day. I was in the neighboring town, Beit Sahour, which is a primarly Christian town, with two of the students from Dar Al-Kalima. They're both girls, one in 8th grade and one in 9th grade. We needed to get a taxi back to DAK. I volunteered to ask the driver and let them laugh at me and my Arabic, or allow one of them to speak to him in Arabic. They chuckled and one started walking towards the line of cabs to talk to one. She walked past several cabs, and I finally asked her what she was doing. She, in a very matter-of-factly voice, said, "We need to find a Christian driver!" She's also the daughter of a well-known Christian family, that has been involved in plenty of peace talks. It was really strange to actually be told, by a teenager, that we had to find a Christian driver. A lot of people here have warned us about "those Muslims." They don't want us walking alone, walking at night, or getting rides from Muslim drivers. It really is a strange concept to me, because I've never chosen a person based on their religion.
Alright, "hellas," which is "enough" or "finished" in Arabic. This has been an epic blog post. I know I've left some stuff out. I know I've forgotten some of it. I know it's not really well-written or in an order, but at least I'm getting it up here...finally. I hope you are all doing well. Thank you again for all of you who sent Christmas cards and letters over the last few weeks!!! They really can make a drab day better! :)
Much love,
Meredith
I think this is really what I needed to read after my experiences this week, so I'm sharing it with you.
Luke 18:1-8
Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. He said, "In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, 'Grant me justice against my opponent.' For a while he refused; but later he said to himsefl, 'Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.'" And the Lord said, "Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?"
