Read all of Sara Brubacher's reflections: Dialogue 1, Dialogue 2, Dialogue 3, Bethlehem Reflections
Dear Family and Friends,
So now I have jumped out of the contained frying pan of culture in a conference
setting, and into the open fire of everyday life in a country where I know less
of the language and culture than I thought.
My first twenty-four hours in Palestine were spent in the city of my birth, the
contradictory and much contested city of Jerusalem. I spent the night at the
Lutheran guesthouse on the beautiful grounds of the Augusta Victoria Hospital
on the Mount of Olives, on whose hillside I have fond memories of an Easter
sunrise service as an eight year old (most irreverently spent flicking flower
heads at my brother). Sunday morning I went to the Church of the Redeemer with
the Mennonite Central Committee Jerusalem Reps, Ryan and Heather Leyman, and
their lovely family. It was wonderful to return to the Crusader chapel I
attended as a child in the heart of the old city of Jerusalem, just around the
corner from the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. While none of the people from
twelve years ago are still there (the turnover rate of internationals in Israel
is very high because of how difficult it is to get a permit to live here), the
feel of the church as the hotspot for peacemakers is the same, and there is
something special in taking communion 100 yards from where Jesus was buried.
After church I traveled down the valley to Bethlehem, where I spent four days.
The first two nights I was welcomed into the home and family of Georgette and
Sariba Rishmawi. There I discovered the wonderful realities of the extended
family. In Palestine, families live very close together. Three homes in a row
will house three brothers and their family on the first floor, with a floor
added on top for every son and his family. The result: an entire compound where
everyone is related to you. The children are just as much raised by grandma and
Aunt Maha as mom, you can always run over to grandpa's yard for a
fresh fig, share the outdoor "zaarb" oven to cook some delicious
chicken and potatoes (as they did for my first supper there), and enjoy
absolutely no privacy.
As wonderful as this it, the facts on the ground that make this a necessity are
not so pleasant. In reality, families live so close together for safety and
because there is so little land.
Every family I have talked to has stories about the times when living close
together was the only way to survive. Most of these center around the horrific
time of the 40 day siege of the Church of the Nativity in 2002 by the Israeli
army. Because some armed Palestinians had taken refuge in the church, the
Israeli army held it, and basically the entire city of Bethlehem, under
siege for 40 days. Families were forced to take cover inside their houses for
dozens of days on end, often without food and water, often gathering in whichever
room was room safest from the constant and indiscriminate gunfire.
Two of my days in Bethlehem I spent with the Siraj Center (which aims to form
links between the Palestinian people and people from around the globe through
travel programs, interfaith and ecumenical dialogue, and exchange programs- www.sirajcenter.org), and
connected organizations, the Palestinian Center for rapprochement between People
(which is a community service center that works for a nonviolent end to the
Israeli occupation and for a better civil society- www.pcr.ps), and the International Middle East Media Center
(which is a collaborations between Palestinian and International journalists to
provide a more fair and comprehensive news coverage of events and developments
in Israel and Palestine- www.imemc.org).
Another day I spent with Wi'am, a Palestinian conflict resolutions center that
does mediation and reconciliation with in the Palestinian community, and works
against economic depression, environmental degradation, domestic violence,
demoralization, factionalism, and peace process stagnation (www.alaslah.org).
Both organizations are wonderful examples of Palestinian non-violent action
against the occupation, a story that is often unheard in media sensationalized
bombing stories. Because I was only with each organization for a little while,
the volunteer work I did was English editing for their websites and
newsletters, which are often written by people where English is there second
(or third or fourth) language. While it was wonderful to provide help in this
way, I suspect that I learned more than I helped them. Reading their material
about the projects they are working on and what is going on right now is so
inspiring and educational, and I feel so blessed to be even a small part of it.
Perhaps the most moving experience of my trip, however, was a visit to Aida
Refugee Camp. During the war in 1948, many Palestinians fled from the violence,
simply locking their homes and expecting to come back when things had settled
down. Unfortunately, that time never came, and now they are spread all over the
world. One of the areas they went was to Bethlehem, where there are three
refugee camps, one of which I had the opportunity to visit.
My guide was Kareem, a young man who was born and raised and is now raising his
family in the 60 year-old Aida refugee camp. Life in the camp is crowded,
with large families living in small units, or rooms, and 10 units sharing one
bathroom. Water and food shortages are a huge issue, along with proper school
and medical facilities.
Right now the situation is worse than ever before. Due to the current economic
situation, the UN is shortcutting services, especially in food, medical, and
schooling. Also, the separation barrier constructed by Israel runs right
through the camp, encircling houses on three sides, stealing away the only
green space in the entire camp, along with water resources, cutting off
families from each other...a common story in the West Bank.
The self-proclaimed symbol of hope for Aida refugee camp is the key: the key
that many families still hold to their homes that they are barred from
returning. Kareem was very adament--he does not want to leave, but to return to
the home of his father, and he will not leave the camp until he can do so. This
sentiment is shared by many, and shows just how complex the situation here is.
While I find that hope is a lacking sentiment in many people I talk to, it has
not discouraged them from welcoming the foreigner in their midst. I had a
wonderful time in Bethlehem. Everyone was so kind to me and wanting to help. I
learned so much, both in my heart and head, and regret that I can only share a
little of it with you!
Peace to you all,
Sara
