A Panel Disccusion on Palestine Notes and Review

8/28/13

Speaker(s): Dr Karma Nabulsi, Professor Ilan Pappe, Professor Rosemary Hollis, Peter Kosminsky
Chair: Jon Snow
Recorded on 26 April 2013 in Sheikh Zayed Theatre, New Academic Building.


"The pretty well certain death of the two-state solution". -JS
"There's no talk in part because there is within the media a very serious Palestine fatigue...the commitment in the media is very very low...consequently, the pressure on politicians to do anything about Palestine is virtually nil, and that is the terrible base from which we have to proceed."

Professor Rosemary Hollis:
Olive Tree Programme (Israeli+Pal undergrads)

address the international dimension:

1. legality of situation is clear: UN endorsed 2 state, Pal rec as non-member observer state of UN, EU and US say occupation and annexation of East Jerusalem illegal, settlements illegal, blockade of Gaza constitutes collective punishment (by EU def) so must be lifted.Hamas still required to embrace 3 principles...

2. the US renewed committment to Israelie security, Obama notes Pal rights, impresses the left, ignored by govt

3. EU has advanced trade and cooper with Israel.  European Neighborhodd Policy and Partnership Agreement. Continuing. at same time, EU condemns specific moves to expand settlements

US official position wants resumption of direct talks by PA (not PLO) and Israeli govt

4. EU is main funder of human rights organizations in Israel, main champions as well. The EU is main funder of PA! Successive pronouncements on the Pal economy today make the point (including IMF and WB) that it cannot progress any further without a solution, and that the illness lies on Israel to lift blockages.


This is an extraordinary picture in terms of the legality, official positions,actual activities, facts on the ground, trade relations, funding commitments, Pal training of security forces. What are the explanations on the disconnects between pronouncements,  official positions, and actualities?

On the US side: domestic (pol costs) Obama calculated too great to explore more
EU: given financial crash, internal consensus within the EU is prized, consensus building>bold action without
If EU were to go alone, they can't get anywhere without the US taking a lead, though it won't...

riveted by the spectre of Syria unraveling, and the possibility of  regional war with Iran?


2 Suggestions:

1. Context: the release of doc buried by British govt which were buried (no release under 30 yr rule)...the British under mandate predicted there WOULD be war between Zionist movement and Arabs/Arab states...Arabs would lose. Pal had started to flee home in 1947.

Now is the time during revival of 2 state solution (plan on table in 1947/48), that international players CONCEDE DEFEAT and tell Israel that they are not prepared to reverse on the international legality but NOR will they buy into, any longer, the narrative that if only the Pal would change the situation could be solved. Pal capitulation will not bring peace and would not actually be in conformity with international legality. It is time to open up a new,  more honest conversation.

2. For Israel: 5-10 yr time horizon to discuss scenarios for  honoring the rights and needs of ALL the people under Israeli occupation and control.
These could include unilateral separation (on what terms?), federation with Jordan modalities, bi-nationalism (how will it work?) (to name a few).







Professor Ilan Pappe:

Author of Out of the Frame: the struggle for academic freedom in Israel; Director of European Centre for Palestine Studies at Exeter. 

Fatigue: Understandable for Palestinian  Question. The main reason we all feel tired and exhausted is because we tend to compare and contextualize Palestine in the contemporary scene. You ask yourself, "How do I compare what occurs in Palestine to what occurs in Syria?  What is more horrific? What needs my attention, now?" Mundane, daily oppression of a Pal prisoner who dies in an Israeli jail on a hunger strike, the imprisonment of 3 pal children, or the killing of one of them, compared to the horrific events that occur on a daily basis in Syria. This is the main issue we must discuss. Palestine should not  be contextualized contemporarily. It should be contextualized historically if we want to understand the extent of the evil that is raging in that land. It is very difficult for the media to accumulate, assess, and present knowledge that has to be evaluated within a historical perspective. When we talk about dispossession in Palestine, we cannot talk about what happened yesterday. We have to talk about what happened yesterday in the context of what happened in the last one-hundred years and understand that the same impulse, the same ideology, the same policies and strategy, that brought to the dispossession of the Palestinians in 1948 the policies that are still intact today and are gaining the same international immunity they had when they first started in the late 19th century. And this is a point that is not mentioned again and again. The fatigue here is not because people have heard this before. The fatigue here is because you ask your viewers, your listeners, or your readers, to do something that usually consumers of news don't do: to have a wider perspective of the case study that they are asked to address. So I think it is very important (my 1st pt) not to forget the history of the dispossession. Not because history is always important-sometimes it is good to leave behind historical events in order to move forward. But when the same historical event is happening in our lifetime, and the event I'm talking about is a settler colonialist movement trying to dispossess the native people of Palestine- this hasn't changed since 1882, we are just in a different phase of the project, when this is the project we are covering as journalists, or analyzing as scholars, or want to engage with as activists, we have to make sure we have found the right ways of conveying this truth and reality to whoever we think it is important to talk to. The second reason there is a fatigue is that we have been using the wrong dictionary for many many years and we have been propagating the wrong solution to the question for years. And it is tiring if you use the wrong language, and then you get exhausted yourself, because there is a gap between what you describe and the reality on the ground. And we have all sinned in that. And when you offer a solution that has nothing with the reality on the ground, there is  a limit for how many times you can repeat again and again the same solution when you know there is no chance in the world that it would ever be implemented. The language we are using, and understandably, is the language of parity. There are two national movements. There are two sides to the story. There are two sides to the coin. No there are not. There is a victim-izer and the victim. There is the the dispossess-er and the dispossessed. There is the colonizer and the colonized. This is not a parity. This is an imparity. This is an imbalance. And our role from the outside is to redress this imbalance-not to support it, not to perpetuate it. And I think that this idea that we are continuing to talk about realities on the ground as if we have already accepted them, such as the dispossession of the Palestinians with no right of the refugees to return, such as the idea that the Pal state if it would ever come into being would be a fraction of what used to be Palestine, such as if Palestine became a state we would find no definition for it in any political science books because it would have no sovereignty, no taxation, no government, so God knows why you would call it a state-you can call it a municipality at best, but not more than that! 

And the last point I will make is that we are using the wrong paradigm or we are captive, captivated by a  false paradigm. Now the power of that paradigm is that the international community is behind it. The power of that paradigm is that even Palestinian leadership gave it blessing.  But that doesn't mean that is it the correct paradigm. In Palestine today, there is one state. There is one state. It controls the whole of Palestine, including the Gaza Strip. It imposes different regimes on the Palestinians who live there, and a different regime on Palestinians that used to live there. The only appropriate language for change on the ground is not the language of a solution. It's not even the language of a peace process. It is a language of regime change. The current regime, that draws the life of the Palestinians, who are half of the population between the river Jordan and the Mediterranean, that regime is not democratic, is racist, uses apartheid, colonization, and dispossession as its mains means of control because it subscribes to ideology that says that only a Jewish demographic majority can produce a Jewish democracy. And unfortunately for Pal, from the very beginning, the Zionist movement was possessed, or rather obsessed,  that the Jewish state has to be democratic and Jewish. Which meant that you are obsessed daily and annually with the idea of how many Palestinians are in this space that you regard as a Jewish state. Only one other ideological movement in history was so possessed  with the idea of how many people live in a certain country-I won't mention its name. It is very sad that the victim of that ideology are using even the same system of finding out whether a Jew of a third generation can be defined as a Jew in the state of Israel. This pathetic, pathological obsession with demography is at the base of the conflict and the reality in Israel and Palestine. And the two state solution was born as means of finding a way of reconciling the wish to have Jewish majority with Jewish democracy. It is the wrong impulse that produced the wrong solution. The impulse to push us all in Israel and Palestine, is the following: the Zionist settlers' colonialist movement now have a third generation of settlers. I'm sure most of the Palestinians accept that the third generation don't have to go home, and they don't even have a place to go home to. That their home is the homeland of the native people of Palestine. But we have to re-frame the relationship between the settlers in the third generation, the native population, and the people who were expelled from Palestine in 1948.  There are clear, universal, ethical, and moral guidelines on how to re-frame relationship between natives and settlers in the 21 century without criminations, re-criminations, without additional injustices and on the basis of a sound political logic. It's not in the sky. It's a reasonable paradigm for re-framing the relationship and finding a solution that maybe will wake us all up, even the media that has been exhausted, for understandable reasons. 

Challenges of Diversity

 I'm sorry I haven't been updating at all, lately. I'm hoping to post later this summer after the semester has ended about my experiences throughout the semester.

This is a repost from a academic blog I'm required to do.

“What are the challenges of diversity that you have learned about or seen firsthand in your host site?”

            Initially, I shook my head at the vast nature of the first question. I am currently abroad at a school in Israel that is unique in its education platform because of its willingness and pursuit to engage all stakeholders in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. There is no prior (Israeli) adult educational model that does not separate itself, in so many ways, from decades of terrible conflict. That said, Arava has drawn upon much literature in forming a framework that allows for effective peace-building and understanding between “others”. It does not pretend that there aren’t “diversity issues”. It expects them, even from the typically liberal/open students who decide to come to the program. We have PELS, a meeting of at least 3 hours each week, in which we discuss issues that come up, including stereotypes, historical violence, personal trauma, chosen trauma, identity, political and religious polarization, extremism, rights and denial of rights, narratives, etc. PELS also include trips within Israel meant to give an image to narratives, such as our visit to Yad Vashem (Holocaust Memorial in Jerusalem) and Lifta, an abandoned Palestinian village whose inhabitants fled in 1947/48 and were never able to return.
            I have also explored the concept of concentric circles, laid out by Nussbaum, the process of teaching someone to relate to their home, but also ever expanding circles of identity. However, I had to chuckle when I read about a tool used by the Kalamazoo program: “describe [experiences] in value-neutral terms”. Exploring the origins and purposes of charged language and speaking honestly (emotionally) are structural tools that have enabled the fruitful conversations occurring in my program. There is rarely neutrality here, and I feel we move beyond it. We are taught to engage conflicting opinions and narratives, with a compassionate ear and tongue. I feel that the structure of the AIES program has worked for me in that I feel both knowledgeable about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict from a political-environmental lens and am also able to empathize with all of the students here, even in tense and heated disagreements.  That said, I do think there are personal and structural hurdles to me achieving the goals set out by Lambert.

“Problems of diversity”:

1.     Recognizing the space in which it is best to ask about personal conflict
2.     Keenly feeling how speaking only English limits conversation
3.     Recognizing that our group of 40 people isn’t representative of Israel/Palestine at large
a.  How do we move on from here? How do I respond when I’m not in a “safe space” or network of support?

            Though PELS activities have created many opportunities to ask others about their identities, I still struggle to recognize the opportune moments outside of PELS. I usually err on the side of caution, not asking my questions if I feel it would inconvenience or upset someone. To clarify, I’m not afraid of asking honest questions that might incite controversy or heated reactions if I feel someone is in a grounded state. But there are many instances where I feel asking to satisfy my curiosity would be at the expense of someone’s vulnerability. Alternatively, sometimes I feel I have not reached a point in a relationship where it is ok to explore and dig into personal opinions, because they are so often stem from tough and potentially triggering experiences. I know my recognition of appropriate moments will improve as the semester continues (one more month!) and I get to know my peers even more personally.
             One conspicuous impediment to developing closer relationships has been my lack of non-English language skills. Though all of the students are proficient in English, there is a closeness born from even fumbling through native language (Arabic/Hebrew). I was not able to take Arabic at my school last year because of major-related scheduling conflict, and I feel that loss everyday. My experience here have driven me to commit to taking Modern Standard Arabic next year, and to hopefully continue lessons post-graduation.
            I feel very comfortable in expressing my political beliefs regarding the Israeli-Palestinian conflict among the group of students and interns here. There is an undertone of belief in peace-building, of recognizing the “other” as a human being, which supports my feeling of security. But I recognize that my political support and confidence will be compromised when I leave the program. One large personal development I’ve experienced is changing my identity to encompass “activist”. I shied from the word before coming abroad, perhaps even scorned it. But now, I feel compelled to educate others about the conflict and to voice my personal beliefs. My program has an alum group within the Middle East dedicated to activism, but the North American alum group is scattered and doesn’t appear cohesive. How do I direct my activism ideals when I return to the United States? To do nothing, to be politically apathetic, would be to betray those I’ve come to love here, as well as myself, and I’m not interested in that path. I’m not yet certain how to direct my political will when I return to the US.  I do not want my experiences to “add up to merely a list of disconnected activities, lacking a coherent sense of purpose or a comprehending vision of what it means to be educated”. If I’m to commit to being an invested ally (global citizen?), I’ve got to seek out effective ways to engage in ongoing Israeli-Palestinian, Israeli-Arab, US-Israeli, and US-Palestinian political movements.

In an early morning in Jordan, I tried to process my role in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the one I had played prior to education, my present role, and the possibilities of my future role. I hope I always feel the urge for greater reflection on what it means to see myself as one being of a collective, responsible to all others within it. And I hope that I will act. 

Halfway Through: Processing, Rights, and Dilemmas

 April 22, 2013.

Processing

I know I haven’t been engaging enough with the information and opportunities presented to me. I used to think that when people talked about being “overloaded” when abroad, it would be easily recognizable, and easily avoided. But neither is true. Mostly, I just feel bogged down, fine with comprehending the material but slow or unable to apply it or dig deep. Feeling low about this, I wanted to journal about something that excited me. Reviewing for this damned water midterm in an hour, I realized that I’ve already been to a place that other students haven’t-and because I tuned out during the lecture, it’s only now that I’m recognizing my experience!

Rights and Dilemmas

When Professor Clive took two other students and me on the Hebron field trip, he showed us the waste water treatment plan right over the Israeli side of the border. He told us that Israelis treated the effluent that came from the WB, but he didn’t tell us about the politics of that unilateral decision (or at least, I don’t remember him doing so). But the lecture discusses them. Israel has a law in place that makes it illegal to release untreated sewage into any of Israel. Because wastewater from the WB flows over the green line due to topography, untreated effluents “break the law” and enter Israel. Israel, having the capital and infrastructure, treats this effluent. However, they (this treatment center, at least) unilaterally “bill” Palestinians for breaking the law. After 1996, when the Palestinian Water Authority was created, Israel began deducting money from the Palestinian Authority for the service of treating the waste water. Included in the “effluent” is potentially clean surface water that has mixed with waste water. Israel, since 1996, has charged over 50 million dollars. To my knowledge, this water is not returned to the West Bank, or at least, not without additional demands.  As effluents are increasing, Israel has been sending demands to the Palestinian Authority for funds to upgrade the treatment centers. But the figures on quantity and quality of the effluents produced by Israel do not appear reliable and have not been verified by outside sources.

Perspectives on Americans (US citizens)

As a study-abroad student, I am required by my college to complete homework. One assignment is interviewing other students about their perspectives on “Americans.” The assigned questions are fairly lifeless, so I came up with a few complimentary ones to help expand each interviewees perspective.

The first person I interviewed was a Palestinian student, Mya (name changed) 

The first question: How do you view Americans?
Mya answered with a sentiment that I’ve often heard here in Israel, but with more poetry: “They are their own faraway island.” I chuckled, agreeing, and simultaneously thought of “No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main..”, a John Donne quote regularly used. The quote’s source is a paragraph in a larger work, but it became so popular that most people think it is a singular poem.

Mya explained that she thinks of Americans this way because they choose to be  isolated and involved too much in just the American world. She brought up that too many Americans (outside of our program) choose to travel throughout the states rather than abroad, despite being financially able to explore outside of the US.

I nodded, thinking of the many Americans I know who fear traveling outside of the US and of the ones who have no interest because “ ‘Murica’ is the best”.

Curious, I asked how she would describe “American” personality. She told me that they are very nice people. I was surprised, and she explained her travel experiences in the US. She’s been to Virginia, North Carolina, and California. She said she was surprised by the hellos that she got in the streets, that Americans were very friendly.

Mya paused for a bit, and reflected that Americans typically show that they are happy, smiling all the time. This seemed a bit perplexing to her, and when I asked, she responded, “They have genuine smiles, and you wonder how that is?” This really moved me, for several reasons. Genuine is a small but powerful word. I think there is potentially a significant difference in perspectives about happiness occurring between Americans and Mya.

Americans: I considered how most Americans I know seem to be striving for happiness, confident (or hopeful) that it could be a state of being. At the same time, I’ve found that Americans struggle to find a state of happiness, and often shy away from conflict for fear of jeopardizing that quest. Despite their relentless search for a state of happiness, and their self-induced isolation, they still find happiness elusive.

            Mya: She commented that she chose to stop watching Hollywood movies, because they always predictable, and portray a very comfortable picture of the world, not a reality. As a Palestinian, it is impossible to detach from the painful political realities she lives in. That is not to say that Americans do not experience their own tough situations and traumas, but I do not think they are built so concretely into every-day life. Perhaps for Mya, seeing American, genuine smiles all the time emphasizes a carefree attitude, one that stems from being isolated and unaware. I’ve seen Mya genuinely enjoy the good moments we’ve had so far. But I think her genuineness stems from the appreciation of good moments in life. If she is pursuing “happiness,” it is a celebration of the good experiences and a recognition of life’s injustices, not a life experience that is isolated from all the horrors and injustices of the world.

Mya also offered a few other opinions. She also sees Americans as hard working, fascinating, and innovative. She is impressed with their drive to create and be productive. At the same time, she dislikes other parts of American life, such as the conspicuous consumerism, modeled through tv adds and the sheer quantity of super-sized items.

Second Question: What are these beliefs based on?

Mya answered first, “As the Power of the world.” She meant that it is impossible to not learn about America. She examined media, and how it often portrays Americans as stupid. But then she considered her travels in the states, and how that demonstrated other facets of American culture ignored by the media. Mya particularly focused on American higher education. She said that even after being educated in France post-high school, she felt impressed by the structure of American higher ed. In France, she felt educators didn’t care about her as an individual, that a “sink or swim” attitude is institutionalized. Her brother is pursuing his PhD in the US, and she admires how educators are invested in the individual student, readily giving guidance and advice.

Third Question: Do I fit your image of an American?

I laughed as I asked this question, because I anticipated her first response. Mya chuckled and said, “Yes, you are very nice, smiley.” She noted that I seemed to be very mature, much more so than she expected out of a 21 year old American. We both laughed at that, because she’d told me a little about her American cousins, and how they had gone a bit wild, partying, to experience “life”. I’m straight-edge. Haha.

The second person I interviewed*: H, Arab Israeli “Borat”

*This was a comical interview, so please don’t be literal.  

How do you view Americans?

H: Americans, at least the people that I meet, are self-centered, they think the world centers around them. However, “One bad one good,” it really depends on the person. They have a very superior attitude. Also, Americans “don’t shy” [meaning free or promiscuous]. Also, Obama’s good, he’s an exception in America.

What do you base your beliefs on?

H: Meeting people and media. Israeli media: Walla. I like the show Friends, and Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. They are good things. I started thinking about America when I was 15. All the time, you hear about America. First met an American maybe when I was couch surfacing, and then on Kibbutz [Ketura]. It’s an American Kibbutz.

Do I fit your image of an American? **(I am a dual citizen)

H: I think you are more Canadian. I love Canadians more because they are more social. Been told Canada and Australia is good because they don’t make assumptions about us. You and Sami are good girls.  (H asked his friend before he met Sami and I, “are they beautiful?", so that seems to be a stereotype).

Other than these interviews, I haven't heard much expressed interest in American culture. Truthfully, my other American friends  and I bring American culture up a lot as a way to deal with homesickness or just to celebrate great times with friends.

Living at Kibbutz Ketura

I realized I never did a post about what it's like to live on Kibbutz Ketura!

First off, a basic explanation about of a kibbutz.  Kibbutzim are small communities that have agreed to live communally, to varying degrees. Founders wished to create a socialist community that also believed in Zionism, nationalism of Judaism and Jewish culture. Kibbutzim were originally formed around agriculture, but have since diversified economically. For instance, Ketura grows dates, and has a lucrative algae plant. Passing through the decades, Kibbutzim have also diversified religiously. Kibbutz Ketura is not considered a religious kibbutz, but religiously pluralistic. There are buildings for Jewish religious services, but members are welcome to not practice, or to practice other religions. Shabbat is kept, and all meals at the dining hall are kosher. I've attended a few Shabbat services (in Hebrew), which use a lot of sung prayer. There is a translation book, which my friends help me use.
The congregation strikes me as both humble and joyful when they join in the service.

Ketura has about 300 people living within it. Ketura is surrounded by a perimeter fence, as are all kibbutzim in this area. I think this is primarily to provide security. We are a five minute walk from the Jordanian border. That said, I feel completely safe here. It is very easy to leave, you just push a button and walk out the main gate. If you need to get back in, you call, and the gate automatically lets you back in.

Ketura is situated in the Arava desert, a hyper-arid area of Israel. The kibbutz draws its water from the aquifer, which does not recharge. However, the only people living in the area are kibbutzniks, so I am uncertain whether water supply will be a significant issue in the near future. Ketura has also committed to being a green kibbutz, so it utilizes best water use practices. For instance, we use drip irrigation in our student gardens. AIES has also just begun a greywater reuse system for our dorms. It is pretty crazy to look on Ketura from above, seeing a splash of green in the midst of so much sand. I am continuously impressed with the creativity in plant and tree choice on kibbutz, though the amount of water they must use is a bit unsettling. I was able to take a few photos Saturday, posted below. Better pics are coming soon of some of the beautiful trees and flowers. 

View to the West-I live on the second story

We harvested a lot of sunflowers during the first few weeks at Ketura

View of the East, towards Jordan

The Caravans, one type of student housing. Some of the furniture you see has a mud exterior.

A herb spiral, part of the Caravan Gardens. Makes me think of the Carr herb spiral at Allegheny. 

Cacti and date trees

Compost in back right

Student Compost

Wicked house, eh?

One of my favorite spots. Messed around with a few camera settings, here.

Ditto. Love the textures.

Our Student Garden! I'll post later about my plants that I'm growing in Org. Ag. class :) 

Tree outside the Mercaz, where we hang out during breaks from class

I haven't yet had any serious discussions with non-AIES members of the kibbutz. I've applied for the opportunity to have a host family, but so far, there has been no feedback. :/ AIES, though part of the kibbutz, seems to remain pretty separate from the rest of the kibbutz. There have been some tensions between a few students and kibbutzniks, but mostly the mood is friendly. I am hoping that I get to know more kibbutzniks when the pool opens after Passover Break. It was over 90 last week, during a heat wave, 70's this week. There really isn't much of a spring season here, but rather a rough transition from fall to summer. When the pool opens, I'm hoping I will have an opportunity to spend time with my future host family's children.


Food: My diet is very different than what I was eating at Allegheny. I usually have some sort of soy product, rice/grain, sweet chili sauce, lettuce, 1 tomato, 1 cucumber  for lunch (meat meal). About twice a week, they serve chicken wings, which are pretty awesome when you add sweet chili sauce and tabasco over the italian sauce. Dinner is much less varied, so I almost always eat rice, more salad, bread, cottage cheese, jam (delicious), and olives. At week 5, I'm actually starting to be ok with them! I definitely don't crave them yet, as many of the Israelis, Palestinians, and Arabs do, but olives have definitely improved in my mind. Success.

Fun: I have a bit more free time than at Allegheny, but it's so hard to choose how to spend it! I am gardening and celebrating/mourning the growth/death of my four basil varieties. I'm not writing or blogging nearly as much as I'd like, but I am trying to write down unique events and experiences which I imagine I'll finish after the term ends. I am also playing a ton of cards. I've learned a new game, Yaniv, which is a lot of fun. I've yet to learn a Jordanian card game, but I've been promised a lesson. I've taught euchre, spades, castle, and ERS to my friends so far. Castle was the favorite for the first few weeks, and yaniv is the dependable game for when we have a lot of time. Yaniv and euchre can also be played on Shabbat, which is a plus. I haven't hiked since the last posts, but I did go out to the desert again to star gaze with 7 other friends. We froze, even with our many layers and blankets, but it was a lot of fun. I'm also continuing to dance. I haven't waltzed in a few weeks, but we are still salsa-ing. We just learned how to bachata, which emphasizes more of a stiff upper body and swaying hips. And as always, we practice our free-form dance moves at pub every Thursday. Ha.
Some of my happiest moments, though, have been general conversations with the other AIES kids. These can be extremely funny, as there are language barriers. But I think it's mostly because students here love to joke. An example:

Cookies: "The Shit" vs "Shit"
 I was looking at one of my favorite photographer's blogs, and I saw an awesome mountain shot taken in Alberta. I wanted to share, so I turned my computer screen to one of my friends, H, and said, "Canada's the shit." (H will be coming up shortly in the next post). R, another one of my friends, laughed, and turned to H. "See, there is a difference between calling something "shit" and "the shit." I chuckle-groaned, saying, "This is why English is so damn hard to learn." R continued his explanation to H. "For example, if someone makes cookies, and S eats them and says they are "shit", that means they are terrible. But if she eats them and says they are "the shit," they are awesome." H laughed, shaking his head. So did I, thinking about the ridiculousness of American slang.

Qasir Al-sir (week 3)

**I'll be posting about week 2 later, just wanted to post this first :)

Friday March 1st –Sat March 2^nd

Fairly last minute Thursday evening, our leader informed us that we would have an opportunity to stay over at a Bedouin village that she had stayed on during her masters studies: Qasir Al-sir.

Qasir Al-sir would be hosting a Mud and Music event, where volunteers could help them build and improve a part of the village to prepare it for eco-tourism. This would be during the weekend (Friday and Saturday in Israel), so we would have to leave early Friday morning. A group of us decided to go, and we made plans to meet at 9:30. Now, that’s not really that early, but Thursday night is the beginning of the weekend, and a pub night. (Shabbat occurs during Friday night, so no pub). We made minimal plans: bring about 100 skekels for bus fare, some for food, water bottles, warm clothes and a sleeping bag.

Around the same time, people also decided that we should go to the zula (a shack in the desert mountain outside of the kibbutz), since we hadn’t been there yet. Many people had already left for the weekend, so we knew pub wasn’t going to be well attended. Still, it had been a long week, so people were still pretty intent on going. We broke into groups with the idea of meeting up in the desert later. I skipped pub and headed straight to the fire pit with a few people, thinking that I wouldn’t stay out late (haha). When we got there, some Ketura volunteers had already started the fire. They left quickly to go to pub, and the rest of the Arava kids met up with us. By then, some of them were a bit tipsy, and insisted we make the hike to the zula. Throwing sleep to the wind (that happens a lot, here) we all agreed to try and find the zula. Thus began our 30 minute wandering through the night desert, herding tipsy students back onto the trails. By the time we got to the foot of the sloped ravine that led up to the zula, a few of us were a bit too tired for the rowdiness of the large group. Three of us decided to hike up a smaller ridge and stargaze instead. The sky was clear, and we tried to point out constellations (they disappear over the horizon quickly).  The big dipper, little dipper, and Orion/Taurus are the easiest to spot, here. We could see the campfire from the larger group at the zula, where the light reflected off of the ravine's sides. The very cold wind eventually drove us back to Mahon Arava. We got back at the early hour of 2 am. I think the larger group got back around 2:30.

The next morning, I woke up early and grabbed some breakfast at the dining hall. My breakfast staple is toast with cottage cheese and one of the delicious jams Ketura serves. I also packed more of that, some hard-boiled eggs, cucumbers, tahini and jelly sandwhiches, an apple, and bread and zataar for lunch. This turned out to be a good idea, because lunch was a bit late. Ten of us met up at the bus stop and caught an Egged bus to Be’ersheva. I sat next to M and chatted with her about Israel v US education systems. We shared similar disappointments about the quality of primary education and also sincere appreciation for educators that put a lot of effort into their work. We stopped at a gas station plaza where we bought hummus (pronounced khou-moouse, not huh-muss) and petted an adorable puppy. That was my first experience of acute homesickness-missing my dog, Puppy. When we arrived in Be’ersheva, we headed straight to a bathrrom. You’ve got to drink A LOT of water here to stay hydrated, and it’s only in the 70’s F. Bathrooms in cities often charge at least a shekel for use, and they’re not always very sanitary, but we were still grateful. We walked a few blocks and dropped off the heavy clothes donation boxes we’d brought with us at a taxi service center we’d be using later. Then, we headed to an open market to buy food for our next few meals that we’d be eating at Qasir Al-sir.


Market

We arrived at one of the Be’ersheva markets with not much of a plan. A leader at Qasir Al-sir had requested that we bring some items: pumpkin (squash), coconut milk, curry, olive oil, veggies, etc. We split up into groups by what we would get: veggies, fruit, and miscellaneous-my group. I went with two other students. This was my first experience with an open market, and it took me about two minutes to fall in love. It was extremely chaotic: packed people were scrambling through the lanes, you had to sidestep fallen produce, sellers called out their prices and threw their sold items, and vendors playfully bickered back and forth across the lanes. We went first to a spice vendor looking for the odd requested items, and found curry, with the help of a vendor across the lane who translated for us. We attempted to buy olive oil from the spice vendor, but the neighboring vendor convinced us that his was much better. He had us try the olive oil in a cup, much like a drink. One of the students shook his head at us, laughing, but it was delicious! The vendor also insisted that we try his olives, free of charge. Before I came to Israel, I detested olives, but I'm learning to like them. The olive oil vendor then directed us to where we could buy pita. The pita vendor directed us to “the best” hummus (from the North, of course) which was easily ten times better than the best hummus I’ve had before. All the students reconvened to compare our buys, and to share lunch. Someone brought back Bamba, creatively marketed as Bambi. We thought that was hilarious. We headed back to the taxi service, hopped in a ten person van, and rode to Qasir Al-sir.

Qasir Al-sir

We arrived in mid afternoon. We put down our gear in the large tent we’d be sleeping under.

The tent-no electricity at night, but wonderful campfires :)

Then our leader took us on a hike up on the hills, so that we could see the Bedouin village(s) from above. She explained to us how this village in the Negev desert came to form, how a transient and nomadic people were forced to settle. The British Mandate coerced most Bedouins either into moving to cities/towns or settling in a random area. The settling was done without thought for infrastructure. As a result, many villages do not have sufficient power grids, water sanitation, water supplies, or health and education facilities. Historically, the Bedouin held no formal claims (deeds) to the lands they traveled in, or even settled in, and as more land in Israel was claimed by the government, conflicts arose. Most Bedouin villages in Israel today are unrecognized, meaning they have little to no legal protections or rights under Israeli law. Qasir Al-sir is one of the few exceptions, and only recently became recognized by Israel in 2003. If you want more information about Negev Bedouin villages,  please go here. Recognition by the state doesn’t guarantee economic stability, so the people in Qasir Al-sir are trying to come up with ways to support themselves. One idea has been to create an eco-tourism program in the village.

Boiling tea!

 Ideally, visitors would be able to stay in the village, learn about Bedouin customs, and also witness how the Bedouin are using permaculture to support themselves and keep a connection to desert ecosystems. After our overlook-tour, we went back down and got to work.

Olive Grove

More volunteers had also come for the weekend activities, so we split up into task groups. Most students chose to float through the jobs, but I stayed mostly with the terracing job. As the village is settled in a valley and there are seasonal rains, they experience both severe flooding and desert dry seasons.  To try to improve the water flow, we started on the most uphill section by preparing terraced gardens. We worked with the lay of the land, running the terraces parallel to the natural slopes. This method was chosen to decrease runoff and slow the water allowing for better percolation. To keep the terraces and built-up soil stable, we built rock walls. My Da has used this in a lot of his land developments, so the skill came in handy!  We first had to find the rocks, then fit them together, which is a lot harder than expected. We were able to finish one rock wall during our stay, so there is only left.

Other projects included: 

Digging out channels to decrease flooding of the olive orchards

Planting trees for produce and to soak up flood water

Mish Mish, the tree that we sponsored for 50 shekels

Making mud to fix the worn-down sections of the mud-houses

Building tire gardens

Preparing snacks and meals

Zataar and Breads

In the evenings, we ate dinner, sat around the campfire, told “scary” stories (pitiful, really), sang songs like "Down To The Water To Pray" (impressive harmonies!), cuddled to fight off the freezing temperatures, and laughed uncontrollably. This was an educational and fantastic trip, and we’re hoping to go back at least once more this semester.

Week 1 in Israel

 
I want to preface this by apologizing for not blogging as I promised. I am keeping detailed entries about my experiences here-but they never seem to make it from the page to the web! Lots of editing! This will be a rough blog and kind of choppy, but I've got other stuff I want to write about. Also, I won't be using full names unless it's Sami. :) Also, I changed some initials for anonymity.

10^th

Got into Tel Aviv with Sami. See previous post.

11^th
 R. phoned Sami and invited us to his house in Jerusalem. Sami and I took the bus to Jerusalem, which was very cheap and comfortable. R introduced us to H and M, good friends who were also going to be students at Arava. We went to a pub later in the evening, and met up with more students and their friends. We had a blast, singing 90's songs and rotating where we were sitting.

Tuesday 12^th  (First day at Kibbutz Ketura)

Spent the morning walking around Old Jerusalem with R and H.  **I will be doing a separate post later on the beauties of Old Jerusalem. We ate delicious desert, kanafeh, that H says is a specialty of his hometown, Nablus.

Kanafeh!

Traveling through Jerusalem:
Left on time from R's house. Took R's  old family car (crazy small personal parking space!) to meet up with the bus to Arava. We stopped at a bank so Sami and I could withdraw money. The bank didn’t take our cards, so we ran to another. They wanted our passports which were in the cars, but R called and told us to come back anyway because we were running out of time. We bolted back, only to find that the car had broken down. We assessed that it was a problem with the battery, so Sami, H, and I pushed the car to try to recharge the battery. Thankfully, I was wearing my hiking boots and not flip flops, so I could actually push. The attempt to jump start the car didn’t work, though. R attempted to get us a large taxi but all three major companies were out. So, we decided to take two taxis (too much luggage for one). One of the Jewish drivers didn’t know the location we were going to, so she was instructed to follow our driver. We lost her in the congested traffic, and we entered a tunnel. She ended up taking Sami and H to a completely wrong location and told them that that was as far as she was going. She charged them, too! By the time R and I got to the Arava meet-up, we were over an hour late. The students actually didn’t seem to mind because it gave them the chance to get something to eat. It took a little longer for Sami and H to reach us, and then we all piled into the bus. I was seated next to C, and we chatted for a bit. It was strange to not be by Sami, R, and H (they were in the back) and M (in the front). Most of us were pretty weary when we finally arrived at Kibbutz Ketura.

Kibbutz Ketura at top left

Wednesday 13^th

First hike in the Arava to Kibbutz Lotan. See previous post for pics.

Thursday 14^th

First salsa dance lesson and first soccer (football) practice for our upcoming tournament. 

Friday 15^th

A professor took us through a tour of the plantations. Then, we hiked at midday (bad timing, in retrospect).  Learned about Shabbat, the Jewish day of rest. Went to Sabbath service, which I found very beautiful. Growing up in an Episcopalian church, which took from Catholic prayers and traditions, I came to appreciate prayers that were said together.  Sabbath service was led in Hebrew, and some students helped me follow along in a Hebrew-English prayer book. After service, we ate Shabbat dinner, a special meal served by the kibbutz.
In the evening, we started a bonfire behind Kibbutz Ketura, and sang and star-gazed.

Date plantations

Beginning the hike

A bit steep

Cool Lookout

Sunday 17th

More salsa dancing at the merkaz.

Blackened from fires

Monday 18^th

S candidly says that last semester’s policy class was “boring”, and that she did not like how the focus was on definitions and not case studies. This was my first example of students being quite blunt with professors. I like this style. Also, as a general rule, profs here go by their first name. And they get a bit insulted or disappointed when called by titles. Prof Nadav didn’t seem phased, and assured her that there would be many more case studies in this course. His course on Ecohealth is three hours long, which I am not at all used to. Thankfully, we get a minimum of a 20 minute break.

Some friends pointed out that Sami is always laughing and that I am always smiling. It's true to our personalities, but I think it's particularly true because we've really been enjoying ourselves here.

Tues 19th

We had our first PELS session today, a peace-building class that is designed for us to share our thoughts on political differences, religious differences, experiences during the semester, etc. We broke off into groups. I am proud to be a member of Guns & Roses, which we all collectively enjoy musically (we also dig the obvious symbols).

Climate Comparison

Home: Pennsylvania, snowy, around 20 degrees F

lake near my house

Puppy overlooking lake

RIP Boots

He always leads

Home for next 4 months: Arava Valley, hyper-arid desert, 50-110 degrees F

*All photos from a neighboring kibbutz,  Kibbutz Lotan. I'll post photos from the Kibbutz Ketura soon.

So much creative art on the kibbutz!

View of ridge from Kibbutz Lotan

On the trek between kibbutzim. 

Favorite shot

Today, I wore a hat and 50 sunblock,  and I still burned. It's not even hot here, yet. I am going to be mistaken for a tomato. But it's worth it. So worth it.