I regret to say...

I realize that I just don't blog enough. There is so much to say sometimes that I feel it may become repetitive and erroneous; however I will say that I am getting accustomed to life here and it is a good thing. The last few weeks have held so many surprises that I don't know where to start. It has consisted of the following:

• luncheons with ladies in beautiful Palestinian villages



• my first nargileh - peach flavoured that is



• setting up a bank account - with surprisingly no hassle



• buying oodles of Palestinian and Chilean wine



• discovering a fish and chips shop in Ramallah



• taking a road trip to buy a ham sandwich



• getting a private tour of a tiny olive oil press in the old city



• spontaneously going to the opening of a women's film festival



• visiting Mahmoud Darwish's memorial at night



• drinking proper cappuccino at Cafe de la Paix

• rushing to Jerusalem after a busy day to meet with friends from Italy

• realizing that all the kids who wear the keffiyeh here actually deserve to

• running into a parade of boy scouts in Al Manarah square - complete with horns and drums

• discovering that my washing machine cleans my clothes with dirty, black water - hence defeating the entire purpose

• walking on the streets of Ramallah breathing in the smell of falafel and nargileh - such a glorious combination

• visiting beautiful Nablus for the day - and spending it in an office full of men who smoke and drink Arabic coffee far too much

Day Trip to Jerusalem

At the end of September I was off of work for 9 days because of Eid. I decided to take advantage and so I rented a car and went adventuring around Israel. The day that I rented my car I headed to Jerusalem because I had to stop by the Centre for Jerusalem Studies in the Old City. I took a regular taxi to the Qalandiya checkpoint and from there took public transportation into East Jerusalem. It ws my first time going through a "proper" checkpoint and admittedly I was a bit intimidated as I headed towards the entrance. I first had to walk through what could only be deemed as a "corral" and then I saw a line forming at a controlled gate. In front of me was a Palestinian woman and her 3 young children. They all proceeded through the gate and showed their ID cards to the men behind the bullet proof window. They were denied entry and turned back around with their heads hanging low. After they buzzed me through I had to set my purse on a conveyor (just like the ones that they have at airports) and slide my passport into a tiny slot to be reviewed. I had no problems and after I collected my purse I was buzzed through yet another gate. I had no idea what to expect on the other side; however I spotted the queued busses and headed that direction. I inquired as to whether or not they went to Damascus Gate and I was told that they all do.

I got onto the #18 bus and for a mere 5 shekels I was on my way. Seated next to me was a couple with their 2 children (one a new born and one no more than 2 years old). At some point during the journey into Jerusalem the 2 year old (who was being helf by her father) threw up. The mother (who was holding the newborn) asked me in Arabic if I had a cloth or tissue. Although I couldn't understand what she said, I knew exactly what she needed and found a tissue in my purse to give to her. This wasn't enough to clean up the mess so the father went to the front to ask the driver if he had anything to help. He did; however he gave the father a very hard time about it. At some point the 2 year old wanted her mommy, but her hands were full because of the newborn (who was sound asleep). The mother then turned to me and said something in Arabic while holding out the baby. I realized that she wanted me to hold him and I gladly obliged. The baby was the sweetest thing sleeping soundly in my arms as we made our way through the bumpy streets of Jerusalem. When we arrived at the end of the line, I gave the baby back to his mother. She thanked me and I could see that she was extremely grateful. After it was over I couldn't help but think about what a precious moment it was. Even though we didn't speak the same language, it wasn't necessary because I knew what she needed and we were able to communicate in complete sincerity.

I started headed down Saladin Street in East Jerusalem when it started pouring down rain. I found an awning to stand under until it passed. What I find amazing about the rain storms here is how quickly they come and quickly they go. No one owns and umbrella, but they just deal with it. The couple of times that I have been caught in the rain it seems to change the atmosphere completely. The people seem more happy and apt to laugh when it is coming down hard not to mention more chatty! After the rain cleared up I headed into the Old City. I had studied my map hard the previous day in hopes that I didn't get lost; however the Old City has an uncanny ability to disorientate you while you are strolling along its narrow streets. I knew where I needed to go so I asked people who looked like locals if I was headed in the right direction. After a couple of wrong turns I ended up in the Suq-al Qatannin -- which is where I needed to be. Score! The Old City is unreal and I think I could spend hours in there; however I think I will wait until the weather is a bit cooler to do that!


Herod's Gate

After an hour or so in the Old City I made a few phone calls to see if I could find a place that had a car available for me to rent. Luckily the first place I tried did and it was within walking distance. Before I picked up my car I went into the American Colony Hotel's bookstore, which I had heard was fabulous. They did have some good books (academic as well as novels); however they were a bit overpriced so I left quietly without purchasing a thing. Despite this, I was able to pick up a colloquial English/Arabic book down on Saladin St. for pretty cheap so I was happy with that.

I was so happy when I got into my rental car for the first time because I realized that I miss driving so much! I admit I was a little scared of driving in Jerusalem; however I just thought of it as an adventure and with my handy street atlas was able to make my way back to Ramallah.

Finally Settled in Ramallah

Eiffel Sweets in Ramallah

I am finally settled into my new home in Ramallah. I ended up staying in Nablus for about 3 weeks. Although I was glad that I was able to experience Nablus, I am happy to be out of there. My first few days in Ramallah were spent in a hotel about 2 blocks away from my office. On my first weekend I decided to walk down to the separation barrier to take some pictures. About an hour and 5 hills later I was there. I walked on the dirt road that runs right along side of the wall. There were 2 boys sitting along side it listening to music and smoking cigarettes. I asked them if I could take their picture, but they said no. I was disppointed for it would have been a perfect photo op... but I respected their privacy. Most of the wall is covered with simple phrases and sayings in a number of languages. Most are political statements, but some are advertisements or well wishes to friends and family.

I moved into my flat less than a week after my arrival in Ramallah. It is in the area of Al Masyoun near the Palestinian Legislative Council and the building is shared with 3 other families -- including my landlord. My second night there I was invited to my neighbor's house for iftar (nightly breaking of the Ramadan fast). The people I met were many of the "elite" of Ramallah -- journalists, art historians, etc. They were all smoking and drinking to their hearts delight. At some point guessing everyone's age became the topic of the evening. As usual I was thought of as far younger than I am. One woman said that she thought that I couldn't be older than 18. I appreciate that I look younger; however sometimes I am not sure whether to take offense or be flattered.

The weeks following this were spent getting to know the ins and outs of Ramallah. At first I took a taxi to and from work; however once I figured out where everything was I started walking and have been doing so since. It takes about 15-20 minutes for me to walk to work and 30 to walk back home because I take the "scenic route" through the city center. The downtown area is wonderful... so bustling and full of life. I love to go down there and just people watch and smell the air -- which consists of the sweet scent of nargila drifting outside from the coffee shops, and the savoury scent of falafel and kebab from the corner stands. One night during Ramadan I was walking around and I suddently heard the sound of cymbols and drums. I followed the sound to what looked like a small procession of people in the street who were holding torches, playing drums while dancing and singing. I wasn't sure what was happening; however I of course followed the procession until its end a few blocks later. That same evening there was a live performance in the street by an Islamic singing group. They had a side street blocked off and chairs set up. I stood there and drank my Arabic coffee in awe of the fact that I was able to witness this.

Nablus

I have been in Nablus for the last couple of weeks. My first few days were spent attending various lectures on Middle East politics at An-Najah National University. It was very interesting to get the Palestinian perspective on liberalism, realism, orientalism, and human rights. Walking around the campus I felt extremely exposed. Nablus is a city that is pretty fundamentalist. When I say that I don’t mean extremist, I simply mean that they follow the Islamic religion very closely. This means that the vast, vast majority of the women here cover themselves entirely except for the face. The usual choice of coverage is the ever flattering hijab. I was wearing trousers that showed my ankles, and a shirt that showed my upper back and a large portion of my upper arms. In addition to this I wore flip flop type sandals. I have never felt so exposed in my entire life.

The flat that I have called my home for the last 2 weeks is on the southwest outskirts of Nablus. It is huge with its 3 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, and 3 terraces. My favorite thing about it is that just to the north of the flat is a mosque, so the call to prayer can be heard very clearly. The call to prayer is one of the most beautiful sounds I have ever heard – I just love that it is a live person every time (no recordings) and that they are just singing their hearts out for the love of their god. Beautiful!

The view from my terrace is a neighborhood mosque.

The other day I saw a funeral. I heard a commotion outside and what sounded like moaning. I went to the window and across the valley I saw a large crowd of people gathered. The men seemed to be separated from the women and children and some of the women were sobbing and flailing their arms. I then saw the crude wooden coffin being lifted into the air and an Islamic flag thrown over the top. Carrying the coffin, the men headed towards the mosque. Once they neared the mosque the call to prayer began, but this time it was different. Although it was the same words that are normally sung, it sounded so mournful and disheartened. The men went into the mosque and about 5-10 minutes later I saw 5-6 children coming towards the mosque carrying what looked to be palm branches high in the air. Another 10 minutes after that the women finally went into the mosque. It was saddening as I wondered what happened. Was it a child? An adult? A mother? A father? A son? A daughter?

Jerusalem - Day Three

Saturday 23.Aug.08

We went to Askadinya again for lunch. I had pizza with goat cheese and fresh tomatoes and herbs. Once again this place is fantastic and has wonderful service and ambience. We then dropped Kherieh’s car off at her apartment in the French Hill neighborhood of Jerusalem where Hanni was waiting to pick us up. He drove us via a back way (no proper checkpoints) to Bethlehem. It only took maybe 20 minutes to get there and almost seems to be a slight suburb of Jerusalem. Bethlehem was beautiful with its winding streets and old majestic buildings. At some point we had turned down a street that was swarming with pedestrians who had no regard whatsoever to the cars that were trying to drive down the street. I loved every second of it. The citizens of Bethlehem are beautiful and I was so overwhelmed at points that I couldn’t help but just smile.

We made our way to the Church of the Nativity where we all had to bow upon entering. The church was not like any church I had seen before. It was old and the lanterns and lights that hung from the ceiling were distinctively Middle Eastern (much like the lights I had seen at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher). I have to admit that I didn’t know what to expect in the birthplace of Jesus. In the section of the church that we entered there was a mass being held by what seemed to be Greek Orthodox (don’t quote me on that). There was a chapel next door that was actually used for weddings. Can you imagine getting married there? The downstairs of the church is where the “grotto” is located; which is the spot where Jesus was actually born. There is another section just a few feet away where Mary was said to have placed Jesus after his birth. It was hard to picture how things were back in the day since the current-day church was built around these holy spots – not to mention they have been decorated so extensively that they are hardly recognizable.

Me and Vicki at entrance to Church of Nativity------->

<-------Me at the "grotto" where Jesus was born

The manger where Jesus lay after his birth------->

<-------Church of the Nativity

Inside the church------->

After the church we went across the street to the Bethlehem Peace Center. In the square was a tree that was called the “Tree of Peace.” Mind you the tree was in a cement “planter” and was looking rather dead as that branches were cut off and no green was to be seen. Quite the statement if you ask me; however upon looking closely at what the Is written on the planter, the idea changes drastically – “I am 500 years old, I was uprooted without my permission from my original site (The Khamis Land) in Bir Ona – Beit Jala along with thousands of trees all over Palestine to build the apartheid wall…”

The gift shop inside the peace center was great. It had some really good books; novels as well as academic books. I didn’t purchase any; however I now wish I had as I am still without a book to read during my spare time here. After our visit here we drove around the Bethlehem area looking at settlements, the separation barrier, and refugee camps. Our way back to Jerusalem took us to the south side of the city and the Richard and Rona Goldman Promenade; which is a hilly section of the city that has amazing views of the old city, Mt. Scopus and the Mount of Olives. It is here that the original location of the British Mandate is – a place which now seems to be used as some sort of Israeli military outpost. We then took a drive towards Mount Zion and the south side of the old city. We then drove around in East Jerusalem looking at the various cemeteries and where the separation wall was cutting off the Palestinians from their olive tree groves.

The Dome of the Rock is visible just to the right of my right ear.