The Beginning of Goodbye

I have two days left in Jerusalem before we leave for our reentry retreat. I hate saying goodbye to people and places...always afraid there were opportunities I never took advantage of or ones that I'll miss when I'm gone. It's going to be an interesting next couple of days. I'd love your prayers, if you wouldn't mind sending them my. 

Post-Bombing Reflections

Discovery #51: I have so much to learn.

It has been a crazy semester for sure: uprisings and revolutions in three out of five of our planned travel destinations...then a bomb exploded in Jerusalem last Wednesday.

(Note: I and all my classmates are fine! I was in Bethlehem at my service project when the blast occurred.)

I haven't been in to Jerusalem since then (our program banned travel to Jerusalem for a few days) but it definitely seems surreal. It's only three days later, but people are trying desperately to move on as if nothing happened -- as if stopping too long to think about or mourn over it would do more harm then good. After all, they cannot show the terrorists any sign of defeat. "We're not going anywhere," the Israeli response seems to say. "We've waited it out before; we'll wait it out again."

And yet, in many ways, this seems to be a facade.

I ate Shabbat dinner with a Jewish family last night and the mother was telling us how shaken up her daughter, Esther, was after she got back from school on Wednesday. Esther's school was 15 minutes away from the bombing.

"She was born into this, you know?" her American-born mother told my group. "When she was born, there were coffee shops and restaurants being blown up all the time. We moved to Haifa to get away from it -- even then there were three bombings there."

It make me sad to say this, but I'm understanding now why there is so much hatred. If bombs were blowing up when you were born and they're blowing up now, how hard is it not to hate? How much can hatred be a coping mechanism to get you through? It somehow makes you feel better if you can hate the people -- and their race -- who have done these things to you and your people.

"But how unfair is that," I ask myself. "How unfair to hate a whole people for one individual's violent action? To hate  a whole people without knowing one of them?"

Friends New and Old after Dinner with Ahmed's Family

But that's my view as an outsider on this conflict -- as someone who can pass back and forth between the West Bank and Israel any day and at any time I want. Society does not demand that I have friends of only one race -- I have Israeli friends and I have Palestinian friends. I have had a chance to see stereotypes vanish before my eyes -- as my friend's mother welcomes seven of my friends and I into her family's home for dinner on Mother's Day, as I hear the Jewish longing for a homeland, as my friends Dana and Reem joyfully sneak me into ancient holy sites, as a Palestinian man takes time to sit and share his Islamic faith with me -- and as I hear his frustration about being stereotyped as a terrorist because of it.

And where does this leave me? With so much to learn. So much to learn about not blaming people because they have not had the same experiences as me. So much to learn about humility when I think I know everything. So much to learn about patience -- about waiting for change. So much to learn about hope. 

My friends and I are all safe in Israel. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem.

Stealing Hearts

Discovery #50: Palestine is stealing my heart.

Today I walked up and down the hills of Bethlehem talking with friends and gazing out at beautiful mountains, raggedy sheep, aged shepherds, and life beyond the Wall.

A settlement poke into our view and Jabra and I discussed the refugee history of the Palestinian and Jewish people. But politics and history are not what this post is about, because what has stolen my heart about his land is her people. The politics I discussed with Jabra are not what warmed my heart but rather the simple fact that it was happening.

Another friend, Dana, after knowing me for only 24 hours or so, walked across town with us to get the most amazing frozen yogurt and then invited me to her home (but I had to decline because I only got five hours of sleep the night before and desperately needed a nap!).

She and I talked and giggled. We laughed about the roadside sheep being Jordon's brother and sisters. We bonded -- I think -- and culture and friendship were exchanged.

Jabra later told me about what it was like living under Israeli oppression in Ramallah during the Second Intifada in 2002. He told me he would have been arrested for no reason if he had only been a few years older at the time. We talked about  the fact that violence breeds violence and hatred breeds hatred. We talked about the seemingly endless cycle of it all.

I asked Jabra many hard questions this afternoon and he answered them all with such sincerity and patience. What I didn't have have to ask for was his friendship. That just happened all on its own.

The friendships I have found in this place have been amazing, whether our discussions are about ice cream or justice. Yet, I fear that, somehow, the world will reduce Palestine to her Israeli occupation and political conflit -- but this is not who she is. Though she is not without her problems, she is beautiful. Friendly. Nuanced. Diverse. Homey. Welcoming.

Withdrawals

Discovery #49: Blogging is somewhat of an addiction.

I'm going through blogging withdrawals. I haven't written a post in two weeks. And sadly, this won't be much of a post either.

Life on MESP has gotten crazy over the past few weeks with trips to Petra, Galilee, and Tel Aviv and papers due about Middle Eastern democracy and Christian theology. This has left me with much to share but no time to do so.

I've also been doing quite a bit of trotting around Jerusalem trying to see everything on my bucket list before I leave in three and a half weeks. For my birthday last week, I spent some time at the Church of the Holy Sepluchre during the day and with my wonderful MESP community and Palestinian friends at night. 

All in all, it's been a wonderful past few weeks and I shall post reflections and more pictures soon. For the mean time, here's a picture from Petra to wet your appetite.

Egypt in Pictures: Part 3

The Pyramids

The Pyramids. No big deal. 

They're huge.

And camels, of course. 

You can't climb them. Unless, of course, you bribe the guard. 

The ancient and the modern right next to each other.
It's amazing, really. 

She's such an archeologist. 

Inside those little pyramids. No big deal. 

On a camel.

Camels nuzzling. 

The Sahara Desert 

Three of my friends looking amazingly cool. 

History Firsthand

I was published on the Messiah College webpage today. Here's a snipit. You can check out the rest by following this link. 

I arrived in Cairo, Egypt only a couple of weeks before the January 25 protests began and was quickly trying to understand the people and the culture of Egypt. Much of this involved trying to get acclimated to the political climate of the country as politics seemed to affect people’s everyday lives  

Most everyone I spoke to seemed to have harsh words to say about President Hosni Mubarak when I asked them about life in Egypt. Though not in my wildest dreams could I have imagined them screaming their opinions in the street.

“The walls have ears,” an Egyptian friend told me on January 24 when explaining why he did not want to talk about his political opinions in public.

The very next day, the protests began. Nobody—not experts or historians—thought their demands would be realized in just 18 days.