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Testing the Waters— Palestine & Israel, 2006 |
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Journal, April 17 - 19, 2006 (edited April 30) —HaifaPhotos: Wadi Nisnas Haifa journal—Part four (Wadi Nisnas, roommates, occupation, Tel Aviv bombing)By Skip Schiel This from the Christian Peacemakers Team in Hebron, April 15, 2006, most uplifting: Dave Corcoran and John Lynes, [of CPT] took a walk along Haret Jaber ("Worshippers' Way") and while sitting along the Way and offering Jewish settlers returning from the Tomb of Abraham Happy Passover Greetings, two male settlers asked who they were and why they were there. One of them invited the CPTers to his home in the Kiryat Arba Settlement [some of the most extreme settlers live here] for lunch with his whole family consisting of 18 people including sons, daughters and grandchildren. After prayers a lively discussion ensued about CPT and the whole Israeli/Palestinian conflict for about two and a half hours. He was very much against the Palestinians but seemed willing to talk to one of the Palestinian families that CPT knows. On the way back to the old city of Hebron Lynes and Corcoran encountered two IDF soldiers helping two young Palestinian children fix their bike. Having prayed that morning for Reconciliation, the CPTers felt their prayer was answered. WADI NISNAS Wadi Nisnas is a neighborhood in one of the oldest sections of Haifa, not far from the waterfront, resided in by Israeli Jews and Arabs. The municipality has renovated and promoted it as an example of co-existence. Some Palestinians I've talked to feel this is subterfuge, layering a hip and artistic veneer to continuing Jewish domination. In this view, the end result is continuing exploitation of the Arab population—occupation with a velvet glove. However, the shop owners are mostly Arab, deriving profits from the tourist trade. Some local folks claim Wadi Nisnas is where you find the best falafel. I was there many times, first with Maroun, a filmmaker, as we bought falafel, then with my photography workshop from Baladna, and again with Maroun to photograph him making a video of Nisnas with his Jewish co-producer. Nisnas , the word, Salim informed me, means the animal, like a fox, that eats chickens. But no one has ever seen this animal; it might be mythical, like a dragon or the lochness monster. ROOMMATES Jerry is from Michigan and is capable in Arabic. His mother is Palestinian, from Lod or Ramla, near Tel Aviv/Jaffa, and his father is Assyrian, born in Iraq. His mother and his aunt are visiting the country and he is hosting. He's studying at the university of Haifa, a semester abroad from University of Wisconsin law school. My other roommate, Dirar, is partially deaf—and a musician and artist. He has the largest room. It is filled with computer equipment, musical instruments, and examples of his visual art. Jerry is sleeping there while I'm here, graciously moving from his room so I can use it. Dirar is away now for several days in his village. In the evening I chatted again with my new roomie, Jerry. His story: at the university of Haifa he's doing research and studying with people he read while at home, thrilled by this opportunity. His special interest is in the formation of a bi-national state. When I asked him how this might differ from a one state solution, he replied "That is a key question." He admits to confusion and hopelessness. Ideas he had before coming here have evaporated. And seeing the extremism on both sides, the role religion plays, demoralizes him. In the eye of the storm, he has been much whirled about and expects more. He is a lovable soul, honest, humble, articulate, and compassionate. His family background provides a unique opportunity for him, and I wish him well. He suggested I might visit the Wisconsin campus and give a show, we'll see. In a brief encounter with my roomie, Wasim, I learned that he cooks in a restaurant from 10 pm to 6 am in Carmel, the high elevation Jewish neighborhood. "10 to 6?" I exclaimed. "Who eats at those hours?" "Rich pampered young Jews," was his response. The place is a discothèque, so I assume people dance, drink, and eat. "And then what?" I asked, "Don't they have to be at studies or work during the day?" "They might sleep till noon then go their ways," he suggested. In a further discussion with Jerry, who is not much around and when around, sleeping, I learned that he is on school break, and very troubled with the bombings. He asked me--what do you think about the suicide bombers? —In the long run, counter productive, I answered, increasing Jewish hatred and retaliation, and diminishing international support. —Yes, that's true. he replied, i think many Palestinians tend to feel the bombings are effective in getting the Jews to notice and act, and that bombings will ultimately have a beneficial long-term effect. Look at the Gaza withdrawals and Israel out of Lebanon. In a different conversation, but about the same controversial topic, I asked another Haifan friend how she is affected by bombings, whether she perceives any increase in danger in Haifa after a bombing. —"None," she answered, reminding me that she never rides the buses anyway, hating the experience, not because of the danger. "Little chance," she said, "that bombing will come here." This despite the fact that bombings have occurred in Haifa. The most notable one that I know of is at Maxim's beach restaurant at the turnoff to where we entered the beach area yesterday. It is completely reconstructed, was within months, with the aid of the federal government, she said, to encourage normal life after bombings. The other evening she pointed out another recent bombing site. A BOMBING IN TEL AVIV Tho I tend to dream drably, much is happening in waking life, some of it dreadful: a bombing in Tel Aviv, near the old bus station at a falafel stand frequented by immigrant workers, killing some 9, seriously injuring another 10, with another 20 not so seriously wounded. The Islamic Jihad, I hear, claimed responsibility. The word spread rapidly. Then in Gaza, the ongoing Israeli attacks in retaliation for the rocketing by Palestine militants, the rockets usually landing without causing injury—except to gazans who are then hit hard. Talking with Reem of the Gaza Community Mental Health Program yesterday—finally in person after so many email conversations about visiting—she was pulling her kids out of school because of the likelihood of an Israeli attack. The cycle seems endless, the circle unbroken. Also, about me visiting Gaza—looks not very likely. Talking with Reem again and Amal at the American Friends Service Committee in Gaza, both expressed reservations. I could be caught between the Palestinian militants who might like to host me long term in a secluded hide away, and the Israelis who might hit me accidentally with one of their rockets or missiles. Not a happy prospect. But who knows, maybe in a few weeks the situation will abruptly shift. Despite the uncertainty, Amal suggested we start the permit procedure by me scanning and emailing a copy of my passport to her. She thought there'd be no problem with permission since AFSC is an American organization. But Fida at AFSC Ramallah thought differently—because of AFSC's support for refusniks, the Israel government might be resistant to giving permits. I've also renewed contacting my water people, Nablus, Hebron, elsewhere, hoping for some bites. OCCUPATION WITH A VELVET GLOVE On Saturday, while returning from the wadi tour with Inas and Salim, we noticed police pulling drivers over. The officer motioned us to one side. We stopped. He looked in my window, and scanned the interior. Then motioned us to go, no check. Asking Inas what this was about, she explained—It is a traffic check, ostensibly a routine check for proper identity papers and auto equipment, but in fact, they don't stop Jews, they do stop anyone looking Palestine. Salim and I look Palestine, Salim most vividly, but you, Skip, definitely do not, you are clearly foreign. Thus, in Inas's interpretation, the officer passed us thru without a check. And I am to blame. A small service to a beleaguered people. But indicative of the effect internationals can have on the suffering. —What might have happened if he'd stopped you? I asked. —A long delay and they'd probably find some infraction, like a burnt out bulb. Then a fine or they might even arrest me. —For what purpose? —Harassment clearly. —Anything you can do? —Not if they stay within the law. She told me of another emblematic event in Ramallah: Inas was in Ramallah. A friend who worked for the election commission suggested she register to vote at the site he supervised. Apparently he can gain personal profit by increasing the numbers registering at his site. "But I don't live here," she explained. "Doesn't matter," he said, "as long as you are Palestinian." "I am an Arab living in Haifa." "Oh," he exclaimed, surprised, "then you're are not Palestinian." —But I am Palestinian. He wouldn't listen, he ended with—I hope someday you'll become a Palestinian." Trying to convince him that she was indeed Palestine was difficult if not impossible. The gist of the story is that many Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza do not recognize people living in Israel as Palestine. Palestinians in Israel have a comparable problem, not sure who they are, Israeli, Palestinian, Arab, some mixture. AROUND HAIFA The tree outside Elias's home [where I first noticed it when I was living there for my first 4 nights] is a ficus. Its thick trunk rises about one meter before bending 90 degrees horizontally for about 2 meters, then resumes it upright growth, spreading into a huge canopy which drops inedible squishy annoying useless fruits later in the year. This is a type of fig tree, related to the banyan that I've found in India and Cambodia. Common to this region, it grows huge, has smooth bark, and drops roots from its branches. Yesterday, once moved in and relatively settled, I set out for parts unknown and higher in elevation. I walked. Up and up, rds and stairs. Hoping to find some other sort of neighborhood different from what I've so far experienced. Maybe I didn't go far enough, high enough, but what I saw was virtually more of the same rather dowdy buildings, messy streets and sidewalks, a ramshackle appearance. But with a much better view of the harbor. Maybe more Israeli flags flying from cars. And a few traditionally clothed Jewish families. Maybe today I ride the subway all the way to the top. IP journal, Haifa, April 17 - 19, 2006 LINKS |
