From Boston to Bethlehem: Reflections on the "Jewish Homeland"

It's been a while since I last posted anything! But to be honest, I kind of feel guilty every time I want to write something about what's happening here; while in Syria, Egypt, Lebanon, and many other places surrounding us it's really awful and the conditions are much worse than here! Compared to all of them, Palestine is a much better place to be at the moment; as one of my friends put it; "we know things are bad in the Middle East when Palestine is one of the safest places to be." But yesterday another one of my friends posted something on his facebook page that was really powerful to me. He's come to Palestine just recently from the United States, and he's going to be staying here for a while living and working in Bethlehem. 

I don't want to give any comments or anything on the complexity of what he's written, I'd rather people read it and just think about it by themselves. Here it goes:

"Perhaps one of the most terrifying things for me while traveling around Palestine is realizing how many American Jews come to this land and believe that Israel and what Israel is doing somehow makes them feel closer to their Jewish identity.

The violence that surrounds me sickens me so much, particularly because I recognize as an American how complicit I am, and how many of my fellow Americans spend their lives supporting these horrors…

Down the street from my apartment in Bethlehem, a Palestinian city cut apart by an Israeli wall, there is the holy site of Rachel’s Tomb. The Tomb sits inside the city of Bethlehem but the Israelis built a wall on three sides to make it inaccessible to the Palestinians living beside it but accessible to machine gun-toting Orthodox Jews from Brooklyn. Just beside the Tomb’s Israeli walls are Aida and Azza refugee camps, full of Palestinians ethnically cleansed from their homes by Israel in 1948, prevented from ever seeing their homeland by Israeli laws which allow Jews from anywhere on Earth to move to Israel subsidized, but prevent Palestinians born there from ever going home. On the Tel Aviv-Jerusalem road, some of the refugees’ old homes and mosques are visible along the side of the highway, but most Israelis call them “ancient, Arab-built ruins.”

In the Old City of Hebron, fences have been placed above the streets to prevent 500 Orthodox Jewish settlers who have taken over the second stories of Palestinian houses (with IDF support) from throwing trash down on the residents who have stayed. They still throw trash, which collects on the fence above as a visible reminder, and now they sometimes pee on Palestinians as well, as they know their piss will fall through the fence and hit Palestinians as they walk. At the tomb of Abraham, surrounded by dancing Orthodox Jews with American accents and Israeli soldiers who demand to know your religion before deciding whether you can pass, a visiting Latin American Orthodox tourist beside me laments that part of the tomb is still accessible to Muslims on the other side.

I travel from Bethlehem to Ramallah, taking a road that carefully avoids Jerusalem and Israeli settlements (off-limits to almost all Palestinians) by going South, East, North, and then finally West in order to reach a destination immediately North of us. Along the road sit white Jewish settlers, toting machine guns and waiting for their buses into Jerusalem. Sometimes the Palestinian roads are closed by the IDF inexplicably or for Jewish holidays or at odd hours, stranding Palestinians miles away from home, while the Jewish-only roads that bypass the West Bank remain open for use.

And on Rivlin street in Jerusalem, young American Jews drink the night away, ecstatic at the chance to reconnect with a land they start to call “home,” and to buy “Israeli Defense Forces” shirts for friends back home, apparently happy about (or at least, not giving much of a shit about) the violence that makes life a living hell for the millions of Palestinians all around them…"

Clarification + Confession Time!

In my very first blog entry, I talked about how easy life was abroad (in the U.S.) and how free life was of the daily humiliation we face here in Palestine due to the Israeli Occupation -well, I wasn't completely honest. I had my share of humiliation and self-loathing half-way across the world as well. 

So, confession time!!!

The reason I was able to go to New York and study at NYU for a whole semester is how my journey to self-loathing and humiliation started in the U.S., but I won't get into that now. This story would need it's own blog to get to the bottom of it. 

BUT, after I was already there walking around New York City streets. Enjoying Mocha's at its Coffee Shops, not missing one bookstore that I came across ... and so on; the self-loathing and feelings of humiliation had to disappear somehow, and they did. 

You see, for any Palestinian (or at least most of us) to be able to enjoy our stay at the U.S. we have to completely disconnect ourselves of the reality we're in at that moment, to live in complete denial. I had to keep telling myself that I have to forget the fact that I'm currently staying at the country that has Israel's back. 
The country who's the main source of weaponry and military equipment to Israel. The country that doesn't even recognize Palestine as a country, merely as a nation! Technically as a Palestinian, I don't even exist to the U.S.!

So let's go again. Life was easy and free of humiliation; only in contrast to life under the Israeli Occupation. Meaning that, it was nice to live for four months without checkpoints. Or having to witness someone's house get demolished because the Israeli government would rather give building permits to Jews who came from all across Europe over Arab Palestinians who were already living there, and hence get their houses demolished. Or have a cultural Palestinian event in Jerusalem get shut down by the Israeli Government because to them it's a threat to "security". Or not to get arrested for raising the Palestinian flag or having a lecture about the current racist policies applied by the Israeli government over Palestinians. Or not being able to see your favorite Hiphop Band because most of the time they're not allowed to perform in Jerusalem. 

I mean, I had the chance to address a huge number of students about the current situation in Palestine under the racist israeli occupation, a chance I would've never had back home. I even got to see DAM (favorite Palestinian Hiphop band) at a concert live, that for sure never happened back home. Hell, for a change I got the chance to talk about the Apartheid\Annexation\Separation Wall and not have to actually feel its physical presence when looking through my bedroom window. 

Therefore, in order to be able to enjoy the luxuries I don't get to have back home I had to completely forget where I truly was. For instance I had to completely deny the fact that part of the money I spent on mocha's at Dunken Donuts went (as part of taxes) to the Jewish National Fund and U.S. military; both of which are destroying lives back home every single day. Back then, I won't lie, I did enjoy most of my time there but now that I'm back home, it's something I have to live with every single day! 

While being there a friend of mine and I would joke around and say, "Before coming here we had " half dignities" (you can guess why by now), but after coming here with this program (which we'll discuss later) we no longer have any dignity left in us". We were joking then, but now it couldn't have been more real.  

The "Settlement" across the street

This is written by a very close friend of mine. She lives extremely close to Beit El , not a pleasant sight for the eye or the heart. This is written by Ruba Bakeer, enjoy. 

"My grandfather’s house’s yard, some plastic chairs, some colorful lights, and the trees around us; this was the most beautiful hall for a family “Henna” party yesterday (kind of like a Palestinian Conservative Bachelorette Party). With all the joy and happiness, a moment of reflection made its way to the depths of my mind, and the thought, to be honest, drew a smile on my face.

Just across the street, and a couple empty pieces of land, there stands one of the biggest Israeli settlements in our country. In the settlement just across the street, I thought, there lays a whole different world.

I don’t really think there is going to be a war in the region. However, the next two days would either confirm my thoughts, or I’d be watching rockets and planes from our veranda. So if you’re not acquainted with the subject, it is just that in the next few days a third world war might pop up; with America, seeking for world peace as it always is, threatening to bomb  Syria; and other countries, divided as allies or enemies are threatening each other as well. Whether there is going to be a war or not, the probability of it has some consequences, at least for some.

In my grandfather’s house, we were having a “Henna” for my cousin. In the settlement just across the street, Israelis were hurrying to get chemo masks and food supplies, as we saw pictures and heard news. Probably, they were learning about shelters and procedures to be made in the case of a war. In the settlement just across the street, they were preparing themselves for a possible death. Us on the other side, were just celebrating life."

 To have a clue, in case you don't, about what Ruba is talking about read this article. 

From Qalandia Refugee Camp to Palestinian Diaspora: "Stay there!"

It's the 26th of August. The weather has been burning hot for the last couple of weeks, but not this morning. This morning couldn't have been colder. Three murdered in addition to over 15 injured during a raid by the IOF (Israeli Occupation Forces) at Qalandia Refugee Camp this morning (http://www.maannews.net/eng/ViewDetails.aspx?ID=624010).

I'm not related to any of them  nor do I know them, still when you hear one name after the other being announced through mosques' minarets you can't help but feel as if something has died within you. Our house is a couple of kilometers away from the camp, even through the distance you can still hear their mothers' wailing and crying, it's not a sound easily erased or ignored.

As custom rule it, these 3 young lives are martyrs now. Some might say they died for their country and freedom, others will glorify them and call them heroes, but in reality all that has happened was three young -once full of life, dreams and promises- men have been murdered by a bunch of 18 and 19 year-old (IOF) with guns too heavy to hold or even handle.

So people can turn them into Gods or Angels, glorify them as much as their hearts wish to .. yet that won't change the fact that they're gone for good, leaving widows behind them,  sons and daughters, mothers and fathers ... and the list goes on and on.

Witnessing these frequent events makes one think of other Palestinian refugees living in Diaspora, not the ones in refugee camps. No, but the ones living in the United States  attending Harvard, or the ones raised in London. These Palestinians which most of them are part of SJP (Students for Justice in Palestine) or activists outside of this organization working for Palestine. Spreading awareness, raising funds, writing books .. etc. These Palestinians were raised on stories told by their grandmothers, grandfathers, and parents about Palestine. About Orange and Lemon trees that surrounded their houses in Yaffa, or the morning's aroma that sneaks up on you while sitting on the house's balcony in Akka and how they've lost all of that because of the 1948 war = Nakba, and the dream of return and how they'd fight till the last day of their lives to make that dream come true.

To them I say, "Don't". Don't come back, yes keep fighting for the dream. Continue to preach about Palestine, the Apartheid Wall, Palestinian Refugee Camps and how awful the living situations there are, hellpoint (aka checkpoints), racist policies by the Israeli government, settlements and outposts, house demolitions .. etc. Continue to do all of that, but don't come back.

Palestine no longer exists. Your grandparents' house you've always heard stories about is now inhabited by Israeli immigrants who are allowed to live there while you -as a non Jewish person and Palestinian- aren't. Even the neighborhood where your family's house used to be, the neighborhood that had an Arabic Palestinian name once, it's probably called now something like Yahood (a neighborhood in Yafa that used to be called Abbasiyah). You won't find people there speaking Arabic, maybe one or two but the rest will speak in Hebrew.
You might think it's hard living away from home, or tolerating this injustice of having your family and country's history be erased like that, but in reality.. you have no idea how blessed you are.

You can write your books, speak at conferences, join the BDS campaign, hold events .., you can even come visit here, visit Palestine (West Bank, Gaza, Palestine 1948) and go abroad to share your experience but that's about it! You won't have to deal with soldiers at hellpoints on daily basis. You won't have to bury a 19-year-old for being shot by an Israeli soldier. You won't have to see your neighbor's house get demolished and do nothing. You won't have your university colleagues getting arrested for raising the Palestine flag and calling for a "Free Free Palestine". You won't get hit by the israeli soldiers or the PA security for participating in demonstrations against the useless negotiations. It won't take you a week of planning just so you can visit a friend on the other side of the Apartheid Wall. You won't deal with settlers attacks ...

Yes you might go through that when you visit, but at the end of that trip you have a safe place to go back to. No Israeli soldiers, helicopters, hellpoints, daily humiliation, house demolitions, get shot and drop dead in a second, get suffocated with a gas canister .. etc. No, only Palestinians living in Palestine get to have these "luxuries". You talk about it, we live it! So it might be easy for you to say yes we will return, yes we'll end the occupation but the truth is far away from that.

So again go ahead, make your promises .. write your poems .. raise the Palestinian flag and chant "Long Live Palestine" .. go across the U.S. and the U.K. and the whole world, spread the word .. but don't come here, because you won't stand it, tolerate it, or last long enough to talk about it. The dream you have will die within a week of staying here. You can fight across the distance for Palestine, but up close you simply die, the three dead men are an example of that.

Therefore, listen to a fellow Palestinian. In order to keep your dream and yourself alive; stay there.

#1 advantage of living abroad: Easy Transportation

It's 5:09 am, I was up on my computer -as usual during Ramadan-  listening to some music while surfing the internet looking for scholarships or internships abroad to have a break from life here. Ever since I was a kid, all I wanted was to live abroad or study abroad only for a little while, like a year or two and then I'd go back to Palestine, but recently this has changed. 

I had the chance to live in New York for almost 4 months and study one semester at NYU. While I was there I got to go to Washington D.C. twice, go to "The Right of Return Conference" in Boston, and visit my uncle in California; the first three only by buying a bus-ticket and the last by using the plane. It was easy, for me too easy. No checkpoints, no soldiers humiliating us and not us letting them, no planning for a week for simple trip to the city next to ours, no leaving 3 hours earlier so I'd arrive on time because of the checkpoints. Non of that, all I needed to do, is get a bus ticket. 

So after living for only 4 months a life free of humiliation in the U.S. it was the hardest thing for me to go back. It took me almost a month to go through a checkpoint to get to Jerusalem, I just couldn't handle it. Life is not supposed to be like this.  It's not supposed to be this hard, this disgusting, this humiliating. going to the city next to yours is supposed to need only a bus ticket. 

I've always hated the Israeli Occupation, but now I do more than ever. Because now I know how life with dignity and freedom really is, after knowing that going to what used to be my normal day-to-day life is impossible.

So when people ask me, what's the thing you loved the most about living abroad?

I'd answer right away; easy transportation.