One of the main features of life these days that people talk about is the strike. Schools and many government offices have been closed for a month since people haven’t been paid since the beginning of the year. At the same time, a surprising number of government offices still are functioning. My neighbor, for example, works as a computer technician at one of the government ministries and has not been paid in 8 months. He said everyone, including himself, still shows up to work however, because if they do not, they will be replaced with new people since jobs these days are hard to come by.

Most people say they don’t mind so much about the government office’s languishing, (except for those who work for them and aren’t getting salaries). The schools being closed, however, is another story. Kids are just staying at home and are getting restless. The only kids still going to school are those enrolled at private institutions. All our neighbor kids are roaming around the streets all day long with nothing to do.

I can’t imagine American schools being closed for an entire month. People would be in an uproar. And yet, here, there is no end in sight to this madness. Indeed, there is a virtual war going on in the newspapers between Hamas and Fatah. Hamas won’t back down, seeing that they were democratically elected. But, Fatah does not want Hamas to succeed. Fatah thinks if the occupation ends while Hamas is in power, this just emboldens Islamists. However, many Palestinians also believe it’s also in Israel’s best interest to preserve the status quo (i.e. Hamas in power), because that way Israel can justify squeezing Palestine for security reasons since Islamist extremists are in power, and the Palestinian society will become weaker and weaker and finally collapse. Moderate Palestinians bemoan the West’s isolation of Palestine and Israel’s oppressive force and tactics, saying this just emboldens extremists and those in favor of violent resistance.

The first week of fasting for Ramadan is the toughest, they say. For me, it was the first day. I hadn’t woken up at 4am the way everyone does for the meal and morning prayers before the sun comes up. Essentially my thought process was as follows…”There’s no way in heck I’m waking up in the dark in the middle of the night and stuffing my face and then going back to sleep.” Well, after that day of a severely growling stomach and throbbing head, I decided I would see about this 4am meal idea. So, the past few days, my Japanese roommate and I both have woken up at 4am and eaten together in the dead of night and then gone back to bed. To be honest, fasting presents a comforting feeling of solidarity, not only with my roommate, but also with the whole community, since we know that everyone is doing likewise in their respective homes. That’s one of the reasons my roommate and I decided to fast. It’s such an important part of the local culture here and we wanted to experience it.

The holy month of Ramadan extends from the day that you first see the moon, which was exactly last Saturday and will extend until the moon disappears again and re-appears. The purpose of the fast, so I’ve been told, is two-fold: to commiserate with the poor, who do not have enough to eat or drink–as in, to actually feel those pains yourself. And also, to fast, from all unholy thoughts and actions. So, while the sun is up, it is “haram” (forbidden) to drink or eat anything, to smoke, or technically, to even swallow your saliva (chewing gum also forbidden, or course.) You’re also not allowed to show physical affection to a member of the opposite sex. It’s supposed to be a purifying time, in which you pray more and fast from the senses, and of course, get closer to God. The typical saying people express during Ramadan expresses this sentiment. You say, “Ramadan kareem”, (Ramadan is generous), and the person responds, “Allah akram” (God is more generous).

The best part of the day for me has been al Iftar (breaking of the fast) at about 5:30 pm, where we’ve been invited to our neighbors’ houses to join them for the meal. It’s a joyous occasion, where everyone is relieved to be able to eat and drink as much as they can after a day of want. The food has been delicious and I’ve been promised cooking lessons so I can learn how to do it as well. After the meal, it’s customary to go for a walk afterwards, so you see everyone around town in the evening. (During the day, on the other hand, Birzeit has been much quieter. Everyone is probably home napping!)

Ramadan takes on a completely alternate schedule that everyone adapts too, whether fasting or not. Even our class schedule has changed, so that people can go home earlier since everyone is pretty much “out of it” by about 3pm. The pace all in all, slows down. People walk slower, talk slower, etc.

Also, no one eats or drinks or smokes in public, even the Christians, out of respect for those fasting. It’s amazing to think of all these hard-core smokers going without cigarettes during the day. Indeed, everyone I’ve talked to says not smoking is by far the hardest part of the fast. My neighbor told me during the year, he smokes two packs a day, but during Ramadan, he ends up smoking three packs a day, just because he misses it so much during the day and so smokes continually during the night. (I’m quite sure, that’s not the point of Ramadan…to go without during the day so you can indulge at night, but oh well!)

Apparently, women must not fast during their “time of the month”, so there is an extra week after the big Eid celebration after the end of Ramadan for women who have to make up their week and for those who were sick or travelling during the month and have days to make up.

So, we’ll see how long I can last. The only big problem I’ve found is this new schedule has wreaked havoc with any kind of gym schedule. The women’s gym in Birzeit doesn’t open until 5pm (and only 3 days a week incidentally!) and closes at 8pm. Well, at 5pm, I’m way too weak and thirsty to go run and work out and after the huge meal, there’s also no way I could get on a treadmill. Hmmm…..

Best wishes to all and hopes for a worldwide fast from want, sorrow, pain, anger, and injustice.

After the morning tour of the wall under construction, we went to visit a family who literally lived between a rock and a hard place. They were a Palestinian family whose house was between a settlement and the wall. To see them, we had to walk up to the wall and yell for them through the fence. As we approached, Israeli cameras noticed our presence and an armored humvee drove up to see what was going on. The father of the family came and unlocked the gate and ushered us in. The humvee just sat there and didn’t bother us, thank goodness. (The Mother said that often the soldiers will not allow them to have visitors.)

We walked up to this decrepit house whose sole view was that of the large, domineering wall, that recently had been painted in bright colors by a local NGO. (We later met with the NGO who said they had been warned by the Israeli soldiers to stop painting or they would be shot, but they didn’t stop and the soldiers eventually left them alone.)

Once inside the house, the Father sat in the head chair (framed by a large poster that said “Bush-Sharon: Axis of Evil”) and told us his family’s story.

The Israelis when they first started building the wall told them they had to leave, but the family refused. The family used to have a large greenhouse and a chicken farm which were all destroyed by the soldiers. One one side of the house is a large fence with barbed wire that separates their house from the settlement, which of course they are never allowed to enter. In fact, their house is often stoned and vandalized by settlers and their kids taunted. The only way for them to visit the neighboring Palestinian village on the other side of the wall is with the key to a small fence (through which we entered), but they cannot enter or leave if the outside gate is closed. They never know when it is or it isn’t. They are allowed family visitors only and sometimes not even that, depending on the mood of the soldiers. They have no livelihood anymore, and their youngest son, now 6 has severe mental problems and anxiety. They attribute it to having grown up with the only view and life of a wall and barbed wire. Their other children don’t like to come home and try to stay out as late as possible. When asked how long they can cope like this, the Father replied that they had lived like this for 3 years and would hold out as long as they could as a matter of principle. He said, “I’m a humble man, not powerful. If I had power, I would fight the Israeli government and take back our land. But this is all I can do.”

It was interesting to hear him rail against the Israeli and American government for pursuing such unjust policies and actions, but he was careful to always distinguish between the people and the governments. He said, for example, he didn’t even have a problem with the settlers because they were a product of the policies of the governments.

Needless to say, their predicament was shocking and depressing. The more I learn about the occupation, the more I understand the huge mistake the US made when we officially called our presence in Iraq an occupation. Also, although the overall situation is nothing at all alike, I see the difficulties our checkpoints and searches and road closures in Iraq have made. We are acting just like the Israelis. I remember seeing on the news in Iraq images of US checkpoints or troops patrolling the streets in Iraq and then immediately they would pan to images of Israelis and Palestinians. Indeed, in that way, the similarities are devastating. It is the dehumanization, annoyance, irritation, humiliation of people at will and at whim.

Yesterday was a long, depressing, and exhausting day. The University organized a trip for us to a village called Der Baloot, about 20 km from Tel Aviv that will soon be nearly encircled by the wall and checkpoints. It took us about an hour to get there since Palestinians have to take out of the way roads and go through checkpoints. We first met with the mayor of Der Balloot, who shared with us some problems in his village.

Der Balloot is a village near the green line (that separates Israel from the West Bank), 270 meters above sea level. In 1948, the town lost 15,000 dunums (1 dunum =1000 metres) of the best land. Since the building of the wall, it has lost another 10,000 dunums. Since the economy is based on agriculture, this is having devastating effects on the village.

There are also ancient Roman sites and monuments and churches in the proximity that Palestinians can no longer go to because of settlements that have been built.

In addition, DB villagers had nearly completed the building of a new primary school when Israelis said they had to stop it because it was too close to the proposed wall. The mayor described the lack of a genuine childhood or time of innocence for children who grow up in an environment that is like a prison with checkpoints and soldiers.

The Israeli checkpoint outside Der Ballout was set up in 1989, through which everyone passing must go through extensive searches. Getting through depends on the soldiers’ mood—villagers told us they feel they have no control over their lives. The humiliation, waiting for hours are an everyday experience. Plus, it is difficult for them to get jobs because one never knows how long the wait will be at the checkpoints.

Some other points:

–Israeli settlements in the West Bank (illegal under international law) block Palestinian villages from each other. Palestinians have to use different roads (blocked access) and go through checkpoints that close as early as 4 pm.

–Israelis seize any land they want under the pretense of “security reasons”. This means where there is fertile farmland, good views atop hills or natural waterwells, the Israelis have seized to build settlements and deprived Palestinians use of their own land. Then the Israelis build roads to connect these settlements together (roads which the Palestinians can’t use) and divide Palestinian areas from each other. In many settlements, Israelis don’t even live there. We passed by one on the way to Der Ballout that is only used on the Jewish sabbath day. When they build a settlement, they build 100 houses even if no one lives there in order to show EU and US that there’s a community there that they can’t move.

–Palestinians living outside checkpoints can’t get in to the villages even for emergencies if it’s closed or the line is long. Later in the afternoon, we met a women’s NGO that had documented dozens of cases of people dying who needed emergency care and dozens of women who had given birth waiting at checkpoints. The majority of children born in those situations have died.

Another villager shared…“For Palestinians, life is all questions and no answers”. This guy had travelled extensively throughout Europe and the US, and found it difficult to reconcile why Palestinians had such a poor lot. “Where are the ethics? What did they do to deserve this? But we have to just keep going.” (Incidentally, a figure I read was that 70% of Palestinians under the poverty line, yet over 90% are literate, one of the highest rates in the ME.)

The wall Israelis are building near the town will be completed by end of year. 20,000 olive trees will be lost and Palestinians will be permanently separated from each other and the outside world, even more drastically than from the effects of the checkpoints. The mayor lamented, “These are not mere difficulties: this is killing.”

To these presentations, the students in our program frequently ask, “what can we do? How can we help?”

One villager had an interesting response, “Tell the story. Just tell the truth of what you saw. Counteract the media distortion: that there are for example, no problems here between Christians and Muslims. That we have no problem with Jewish people…our problem is with the people who take our land and oppress us. This is not about religion; this is about the extreme damage politics does to religion…whether al Qa’ida, Zionism, or George Bush. I don’t know why God decided to send all the prophets to our land, maybe just to make our life difficult. I’ve seen the Rocky Mountains; they are so high, so close to God. Why not there???”

Ah, the big city…!! Last weekend some friends and I went to Tel Aviv to go to the beach before it gets cold. We were wrongly thinking that the climate in Tel Aviv is similar to Birzeit where it’s already cooling down significantly in the evenings. But we realized as we made our way down to Tel Aviv that the whole two and a half hours, you are going down, down, down. Silly me, I had left my passport at home so I was frantically making up a story in my mind about how to plead with the Israeli guards at the checkpoint to let me though. Thankfully, this time it was a young guy who would undoubtedly have been denied entrance to a rated R movie, and he looked scared to death. He barely glanced at my driver’s license and didn’t even ask to see a passport, so we were home free!

In Tel Aviv, we first stopped by the huge apartment of an American guy who works for USAID. He’s the friend of a friend and offered me to stay the weekend at his place. He recounted the frustrations of his job at USAID ever since Hamas won the elections. He’s responsible for funding projects for the West Bank and Gaza and since the USAID has stopped all funding since Hamas won the elections, he literally has nothing to do. Interestingly, he mentioned how difficult it is to make friends in Tel Aviv if one is not Jewish and doesn’t speak Hebrew.

The view of Tel Aviv from his apartment building was stunning and the city looks very beautiful at night. (see pictures!) During the day, however, the city is suprisingly dingy and run-down. There’s also not much to do besides the beach.

As we left my friend’s apartment, we noticed policemen lining the streets and some roads blocked. It turns out a massive protest against the management of the war against Lebanon was being held a block away. We went over there to see what it was about and got in some interesting conversations with Israelis. Most were there because they disagreed not with going to war against Lebanon but with the execution of the war. One lady said, “I don’t feel any safer today than yesterday. They said they would get rid of Hizballah; they didn’t. They said they would get back the two soldiers and they didn’t. This is not right I’m no general but I know they should have managed this better!”

We then got in a conversation about the settlements with this lady and her son. Her son said the Arabs simply have to go; it is the Jews’ land. At least he said they should probably be compensated for the land. The Mother was against the settlements, but said that any state settlement must include all of Jerusalem for Israel for “historical purposes”. The next day we had a conversation with a guy with long dredlocks at an ice cream stop, whose grandparents had emigrated to Israel from Morrocco. “But I don’t speak a word of Arabic and I hate Arabs”, he said. “Why?” I asked. “Long story, if you grow up in Israel, you of course hate Arabs.” He said he was born in Jerusalem but much preferred living in Tel Aviv because life is freer and you can do and dress anyway you like. It was pretty shocking to hear that kind of mindset emanating from even the most chill hippie dude on the street.

After the protest, we had delicious Thai food and went to a bar on the beach that was blaring hip-hop music. It was surreal…we all felt like Tel Aviv was in a bubble. My American friend agreed…he said you would have never even known that a war was going on last month because life just continued apace in Tel Aviv. The only way one had an idea were the constant warships passing by the beach. Surreal, indeed.

After a lovely day at the beach and some shopping for things we can’t get in the West Bank, we wearily boarded the bus back to Jerusalem. I was eager to get back home. I had missed it!