Journal, April 15 & 16, 2006 (edited April 28) —Haifa

Photos: Hiafa 2

Other photos and writing

Haifa journal—Part three (holidays, Wadi Rushmia)

By Skip Schiel

Dreaming of water: the ocean, me in it, showing off to Louise by diving into the surf and swimming underwater what to me felt like a long distance. I surfaced and discovered I was only a short way out. Then, lying lazily in the shallow water, belly up, wearing only under pants, some young people saw me nearly naked. This is my response, perhaps, of visiting the Mediterranean at Akka the other day with Ala.

April 15, 2006, Saturday

SPRING HOLIDAYS IN HAIFA

Here's what I understand about the holiday routines here in this mixed city of Haifa, Jews and Muslims and Christians (precious few of us remaining) living together. Friday is off for observant Muslims, but most Muslims work Fridays. Saturday is off for most Jews, observant or not. Sunday I think is on for most everyone, including me. Even Easter. What's Easter in the land of Jews and Arabs? Off for Jews means no public transport, all government buildings closed, most Jewish businesses closed. Off for Muslims means you can barely tell it's a day off for anyone, most every thing is open.

Public transport includes the shurut, or shared taxis, also some buses. So on Saturday forget the subway and the bus. Arabs—or Palestinians, depending on your nomenclature preference—mostly drive taxis so they run regularly. Arabs drive a few buses as well.

And then there are exceptions: Thursday was Pessach (pronounced pay-sa, like pesos with the ose), so life slowed down thru today. And today is Easter and I'm not sure what will happen. So in short, holidays are complicated, reflect the social situation, and knowing what is what takes awhile.

Adding to the holiday complexity: Pessach is celebrated for the entire week. Once I learned this, I understood why so many shops, museums, governmental buildings, the commercial waterfront, and banks were closed during this week, and why so many people were thronging parks, beaches, and other public spaces.

Depending on the weather today—it is now raining heavily, only the second day that I recall of such rain in my 1 and 1/2 months here—I may wander over to the Baha'i gardens and absorb them, a type of outdoor church. I learned recently that the Baha'is completed constructed as recently as 2001, costing some 1/4 billion dollars. Where did the money come from and what was the motivation?

WADI RUSHMIA

Later, after a long leisurely coffee at the café near Elikay, photographing each other over and over, me coaching Inas on how to do various things like selective focus, Inas, Salim, and I visited several people living poor and "illegal" in Wadi Roshima. This was eye opening for me, to see once again the sharp distinction between poverty and wealth. The wadis drain sewage systems and nestle under tall limestone cliffs on top of which sit housing. I'm not sure for whom. But the rule of thumb is the higher the house the greater the wealth and the more likely the residents will be Jewish. The rich sit on top of the poor.

The residents in this wadi are termed illegal which means they may own the land their dwellings are on but have few rights beyond that. They can be moved out at any moment. Because of the location of the wadi, fairly central in Haifa—a new mall sits on the upper end of the valley—this is coveted land, a frequent story around the world.

One man, S, had lived in his shack for some 50 years. The municipality eventually granted permission only to live there, to acquire the land legally, but not to build anything permanent, anything more than a shack of tin and wood, a shanty. In fact, this reminded me strongly of the South African shanties I've visited, especially in Aloes Community near Port Elizabeth. This man's wife was ill and in hospital. A younger man living near Nazareth who brings food visits him nearly every day. S lives like a small-scale farmer, with a fruit tree (quince?), olive tree, tomatoes, onions, parsley, all lovingly tended and some generously harvested for us. When we arrived he was watering his garden. He then brought out a fresh feast of bananas, oranges (which he skillfully pealed with a knife), and some kind of bitter fruit gathered from his tree. Apparently his family had owned a large house in a former Arab neighborhood near the harbor. The city confiscated it and it is now a nightclub.

S prevented 2 bombings of a nearby water storage unit, bombings that might have been perpetrated by the militant Palestine resistance. And for this act was rewarded with free water. But Inas wonders how he knew and whether he's trying to identify with Jews and exploit his connections. Salim has visited him many times and is making a short documentary video. While Salim videoed, Inas and I photographed, an ideal set-up for me—permission implied, subject attentive but not self-conscious, free reign for me, no restrictions other than decency about what to show. I inched inside one of his rooms to show an interior, often as vital in portraying a story of how someone lives as making the portrait.

The other man lives alone--in a series of shacks and a converted RR car. His wife and kids left him because they couldn't bear the conditions. He'd been raised at this site, the Wadi at least, and refused to move. The municipality is trying to fine him for the trash it claims he leaves about. He once had cows and goats, but apparently has sold them. We saw a few geese lumbering by.

A recurring theme of our visit was the stone itself. Grandiose, threatening (it could chunk away at any moment, what would happen during an earthquake?), filled with caves, product of water (in 2 ways—deposited when this was all underwater, then carved by water), an occasional spring, the ubiquitous presence of sewage (both scattered about and running smellingly beneath us). High above us loomed the more affluent housing.

Not only did this visitation fit with my ongoing theme of poverty (Forms of Poverty, an earlier photo project), and my interest in geology but certainly with water. Water created and sculpted the wadis.   wadis are often the sites of sewage pipes. We could smell sewage and sometimes see it. The Wadi housed stored fresh water. One man was watering his garden; the other had left a water hose running into a trough. He told Inas he had no way of turning it off, this stolen water.

April 16, 2006, Sunday

LINKS

Economist tallies swelling cost of Israel to US (Christian Science Monitor, December 2002)

U.S. Assistance to Israel (Central Intelligence Agency, 1949-2004)