imminent return

On Tuesday, I return back to the United States of America. I am, after all, estadounidense, not to be confused with americano. I'm not quite sure if this post is going to conclude my experience, nor am I sure if I will continue this blog or not. I think that I will, more as a sideline commentator than an in the field correspondent. Either way, I learned a lot this year and saw a lot. I need to go home to digest it before I explode. I'm getting close...

News today blows my mind. Israel may discover the fate of one of their symbols in the coming days, while the world has lost one of its brightest stars. Poor Farrah Fawcett, is swept to the last pages of the paper.

I don't know how to process all of that, or the most recent adventures that I've enjoyed. I must say that my trips into insha'allah Palestine have been both enjoyable and unfortunately confirming of how bad it can be. While Ramallah is a beautiful little town with a vibrant culture--local beers, famous ice cream, all kinds of attractions--spending time in Hebron is not what one would call enjoyable, but rather I felt somewhat embarrassed for people having to show me how they actually live under such a tight fist. We're talking about streets where the Arabs are restricted to walking only on one side, entire neighborhoods evacuated, cemeteries restricted to anyone but them. I don't think that I should go back to Hebron unless I have something to offer the city, some work I am committed to. It is not a tourist destination, but it is important to go at least once just to see. It is not enjoying the comparatively "nice life" that other cities in the West Bank manage to muster up in times of relative calm.

And then I went to Beirut:

From Take a stroll around the region..

What a beautiful and fascinating city. And the people there treated me like a human being. It was incredibly beautiful and fun. Exciting city where something is always happening. I was lucky that I did not show up at a time when things were getting tense, despite their being elections three days prior to my arrival. The purpose of my trip was not to see everything, it was to relax and to get a feel for what is going on in Beirut from day to day. I think I did alright, and it was really nice to meet up with a friend of mine and meet a bunch of her friends. Very smart and interesting people. And the American University of Beirut was one of the most beautiful campuses I have ever seen. I'm simply blown away by that trip, and I cannot wait to go back to Beirut to spend more time there and to hopefully explore the country a bit more.

But here I am in Haifa, finishing up the last bits of work I have to do before I return to the US. I realize that I'm going home to a different situation entirely. There is a new president who is accompanied by a new popular movement that has reached even here and beyond, my parents live in a very new place that I've seen briefly in the center of Philadelphia, and I have not lived at home in nearly 3 years...should be very interesting for me. I am returning exhausted. This year has been long and interesting, but long nonetheless. I have had many exhausting conversations and experiences. I don't remember how to enter a store and ask a question in English--I'm sure it will come back. I'm less patient. I'm concerned that after a bit of time, the US won't stimulate me in the ways that living in the Middle East has for the past 10 months. I could go on and on about things that make me uncomfortable, but I feel incredibly lucky and excited that in just four days I will be back in Philadelphia, having had such a rewarding experience.

Thanks for following, and I'll be around.

--Abraham אברהם ابراهيم

eloquence

This is a much more eloquent response to the Haaretz article that I ranted about the other day about "natural growth."

I had completely forgotten about the rules that apply to the rest of civilization when I considered the case of the settlers because I had been convinced for a moment that I should not treat their situation like one involving normal people. However, I have met settlers, I have spent time with them, and -- brace yourselves -- I really like some of them. Very sweet people have fed me, given me a place to stay -- yes I have slept in a settlement -- and been very nice friends to me. We disagree politically, clearly, and it confuses me very much as to how the people that I have met who are very smart, nice, and seemingly moral people are able to make a logical conclusion to live there and raise their families there.

One time, at a meal in West Jerusalem, hamdulillah, I was speaking with a settler couple and a couple that was hosting all of us. The couple from the settlement were young, had small children, and were very fun and nice. The couple from West Jerusalem were also very nice and young, but the wife was much more militant in her speech. She assured me that she was "sure that there are good Arabs." <> excuse me, what? However, there are clearly many more, perhaps it's even in the larger culture, who are full of hate. <>

I just don't understand how a large community of Americans -- and all of the settlers and even that woman from Jerusalem were Americans originally -- that are raised in a society where racism is condemned and has been a central battle for decades in our country are able to reproduce the same kind of hatred that kindergarten teachers and Sesame Street have been preaching against for years.

Now I should concentrate on doing something as opposed to complaining about this situation and the unfairness that the settlers cause for all of us. I am halfway through my exams, and I cannot wait for Thursday, the day of freedom, mostly.

--Avraham

unsettling

If there is one thing in Israel that really makes me cringe, it is the attitude of some people and the government toward settlements in the West Bank. Natural growth is one thing, but this is quite another. In terms of the settlements that morally should not be there anyway, I understand if you have 20 children and need to expand your house or build another one next door; however, I think that what you are doing to the world by having 20 children is an atrocity, and that raising your children in a politically unstable piece of land is not fair to them and is a clear indicator that you do not love your children as much as you love dogmatic beliefs. If one looks at the article that I posted, one can easily see that this "natural growth" phenomenon is a huge concern to settlers because they all just got there.

You'd think that by reading government declarations about this "natural growth" that some well established people living in old homes are in their third generation in these towns, but no, often times it's just people who moved there in the last 10 or 15 years since after a peace accords announced that they will fool the Palestinians into allowing them to solidify and expand the settlement enterprise. People argue that the settlers' whole lives are there, that children are born there and see it as their home. Well guess what, the children who were born there, my hearts go out to you. Nobody chooses where they are born or to whom, but your parents are reproducing at rapid rates in order to immorally create a political environment that will pit them against the Palestinians and their own nation, Israel.

--Avraham

ibtasimu

I spoke with a friend this morning who I worked with last summer in videography at camp. He recommended this video to me, and I ask you to take 15 minutes out of your day to enjoy it.



Have a great day!

--Avraham

to zahra, with love

She is certainly one of the most sensational things to happen to Iran since Netenyahu's commitment to the US's negotiations policy toward the democratic Islamic republic.

Just look at her beautiful, large glasses. That knowing smile. The way she raises her arm up saying, "You can trust me in the Green Mosque." I may sound like I am jesting, but no, I'm serious.

Zahra Rahnavard, successful in academia and public affairs, is a prominent woman figure that is sweeping the people off their feet: Iran's Michelle Obama. If you compare photographs of the two ladies, you would find that they look very dissimilar, however they both possess a finesse that delivers the message of "you can trust me, after all, does it look like my husband's allowed to screw up?" They are powerful, independent, and important.

Zahra, however, speaks openly about the limitations on women in her country and the appalling effects of such policies, in a country where many outsiders may not know that the progressive culture is suppressed in the public image presented by the leaders of that society. It was not long ago that Iran was not on the top of everyone's political agenda as an archaic human rights offender, perhaps aided by the fact that the US was slaughtering millions in the Islamic Republic's neighboring states at the time, but even so.

So what can we learn from her and her public participation in her husband's campaign? Iranians identify with a beautiful unity between husband and wife, which shows us that their politics may not be too different from ours when it comes to campaigning for the people. The returns in their vote will tell us how important it is for Iranians to know their leaders' personal lives as well as how the Supreme Leader views such attempts to evoke empathy from the people. Maybe Mousavi is not the best candidate, but I must say his campaign is certainly one of the most sensational as far as I am concerned. Maybe my opinion is just skewed as I am a Westerner who read about it on CNN and it is an attempt to fool us in the West that things are moving back from extremism in Iran's leadership. Insha'allah the democratic aspect of their system wins over the authoritarian this time around, and if that means more of the same from them, I suppose I cannot impose my imperialist opinion on a fair democratic election (assuming it is such).

Keeping an eye on Iran, but an even closer one on Lebanon. Interesting times, for better or for worse.

--Avraham

24

24 May days ago I left you with no intention to forget to write, but it happened.

Here I am, nearing the end of my studies--finally--and actually enjoying the experiences that I wished I was having all along. I am working hard in my internship, researching foundations for feminist groups in Arab towns. I have been traveling to cities that you only hear bad things about in the news and finding that the beautiful and warm people that make the actual character of the town are completely overlooked in such reports. I'm learning Arabic and learning even more through speaking with people who cannot speak to me in any other languages. The relationships with a few of the friends that I've made here are very close and comfortable, and I am glad to have those kinds of relationships both here and when I return home. I have beautiful plans made for June, once my program ends. And last but not least, I don't think I will be failing any of my classes, insha'allah.

I go to the beach as much as I can. I avoid doing laundry because I don't like hanging it. I read the news obsessively in preparation for the Lebanese parliamentary and the Iranian presidential elections. I'm following Obama's Middle East policy meetings and speeches like a hawk. I'm getting to the core of the issues with people that they effect, and from this I am learning that not only do these issues affect people but they also have a daily routine amidst obstacles that I can barely fathom in such regularity.

I'm not shy, and I'm not self-conscious here. I ask for more chocolate in my hot chocolate, if I wanted hot milk I would have ordered that and paid less. On the other side of the same coin, I am less patient and less collected under pressure. I am beginning to feel even stronger the stress of being stuck in a place that is not familiar or comfortable, having to rely on exhausting skills just in order to satisfy my basic needs.

But I'm here, and I'll be in the region until June 30. And boy do I have plans. All I can say for now is, I think I'll have to write a bit more of this when I get home so that I don't have to think about security people watching me at borders. It sounds silly, but I know that this is actually a potential bother that I would have to face--I'm in the system, they told me last time at the bridge.

--Avraham

back in town

After my longest absence from this here blog thing, I return with photographs from my parents' epic visit to Israel, if you dare to click the link!

--

I was riding the bus for quite some time, standing in fact due to the high number of passengers. I kept ducking to look outside, hoping to see a sign or even an intersecting road, in order to check my location. Would I ever see another sign of humanity in this never-ending sea of sand dunes and rocky hills? To my right was yellow sand and stone, to my left were the tall peaks of Jordan, and there we were, on route 90, going south.

I finally see the sign, I press the red button to alert the driver of my descent from the bus, I grab my stuff, and I approach the big blue gate. After dusk, Kibbutz Ketura did not look like very much from its entrance, but as Alana brought me deeper and deeper into the campus, I saw that they had turned a piece of desert land into an oasis with flowers of every color and very mature and healthy looking trees. Now, if you've ever seen a kibbutz in the Negev before, you may not be too surprised; surely it's beautiful, but this story is not unique just yet.

Alana studies at the Arava Institute, an academic center in the middle of the desert that provides courses, a masters program, and conducts some very interesting environmental and desert studies research. The research and the commitment to educating an international audience about environmental threats and solutions is beautiful, but even more beautiful was the makeup of the student body at the institute.

I had Shabbat dinner with a girl from Ramallah last weekend.

I'm guessing that few people can say that sentence and mean what it says, but I am very honored to e one of the people who can. Students at the Arava institute come from the US, Latin America, Israel, Palestine, Jordan, Europe, down the road at some other kibbutzim, and I think we get the point. Living in a small housing complex, Israeli Jews, American Jews, Palestinians, and Jordanians hang out and learn together, discuss all kinds of different perspectives and insights, and find so much common ground on their dedication to the environment that the political issues seem to disappear in this tiny bubble in the middle of nowhere.

It was a really fun weekend, and I met plenty of cool people studying at the institute and living on the kibbutz. I left my jacket, so I'll have to go back, even though I was planning on it anyway. It felt really great to see peace and cooperation breathe so much life in the Negev.

--Avraham