Africa!

My flight for Nairobi, Kenya leaves tomorrow night. And I am completely psyched about it. Tonight, a friend who is doing a journalism project on Sudanese refugees in Israel, invited me to a dinner at the home of an individual named Gabriel, who happened to be the nephew of the infamous leader, Dr. John Gurang, of the Southern People's Liberation Army. After decades of civil war in Sudan, the Comprehensive Peace Agreement of 2005 stalled the fighting of the second Civil War between the Muslim/Arab north and the Christian/Animistic south (throw in oil revenues to complicate it all), giving the south autonomy for six years, and a role in the northern government. In 2011 there will be a referendum that will decide the future of the south. Gabriel, and his friends I met, are in Israel after fleeing political persecution in Sudan and Egypt. Type 'Comprehensive Peace Agreement' into the search engine and you'll get more information than you'll ever need.

This dinner was awesome for a few reasons: (1) They were SO excited about the fact I was going to Kenya, and convinced me of how much I am going to love Africa, the people, and the freedom. (2) Gabriel is connecting me with his rebel commander cousin to meet up with, (3) He's the nephew of Dr. Gurang- and when and if S. Sudan gets a government of its own, he's going to be one important dude. He already is- Oprah is meeting him in October. All I could really do was sit and think, what is my life? Two people who have met Oprah in one summer? (4) They were genuinely just crazy awesome people! So nice and friendly, intelligent, eloquent. Granted, they are the cream of the S. Sudanese elite crop, but still. (5) Their perspective of Israel- one shared with me how he sympathizes with Israel's situation, seeing many parallels with the development of the state of Israel and the Southern Sudanese struggle. He told me how he sees lessons that SS can learn from how Israel was able develop and secure its position as a state. (hmmm.....) I don't know a lot about this, but I'm so lucky that there are so many other cool Carolina kids in Israel I can piggyback off of for epic experiences :)

Anyway, all this got me insanely excited for Kenya. Carolina for Kibera, the organization that I will be working with, has done some truly amazing things. Established by a former Carolina student, CFK is now composed of health clinic, women's rights center, community waste-management program, and sport's association. CFK has highlighted many of the problems facing Kibera, the largest slum in Africa. It hosted President Obama during the election, and inspired a Representative David Price and Brad Miller to introduce the SLUM Assistance Act to Reduce Global Poverty. CFK is run on the ground completely by Kenyans, and received Time Magazine's 'Hero of Global Health' in 2005. Honestly, I have no idea why they picked me for this, and I feel so humbled to be a part of such an amazing program.

I'll be working with the sports program (we'll see how quickly those 8 years of soccer come back), since its focus is on building leaderships skills and easing ethnic tensions through team building. I don't know exactly what I will be doing yet, although at one point it was described to me as 'capacity building-' no one quite knew what that meant, or how I would be remotely qualified to do anything that it might suggest. Oh, and I'm banking on Swahili being as easy as everyone says it is- because I don't know a lick of it right now.

One month to the birthday. I'm not sure what can top camping in the Sinai Desert (although Dahab left much to be desired), but I have a feeling that Kenya won't fail me.

Have you heard that it was good to gain the day? I also say it is good to fall, battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.-W. Whitman

If I were to judge the success of the past two months based on how I envisioned it then, I think it would probably be safe to say I am a complete failure. As of May 5, 2009, as my flight left, I was on a mission to collect oral histories from members of the Domari community, in relation to understanding their interaction as a community in the unique city of Jerusalem, while volunteering at the center by teaching English. That, I did not do.

After the first two days, I realized that there was an entire back story that was going to drastically shift my relationship with the center. I found out that the perfected English of her past emails was not hers', but that of a Polish volunteer that had left. In reality, the English that Amoun had learned on the street was just that- street English. She couldn't write an email, or update the website. Since that time, anything related to proposal writing, answering emails, drafting updates, writing the newsletter, was waiting for someone else to come along. But it was okay- the Polish volunteer, Kaisa, was going to come back- at that point, I could remove myself from the administrative stuff, and get back to focusing on my project and teaching English.

But just kidding. Kaisa then decided that she wasn't coming back. And she left no records of what she had done for the center in the last year- financial information, what proposals had been submitted, who she was in contact with, how to access the website (which she decided not to do the entire year that she was there).

As it became clearer how limited Amoun's computer and written communication skills were, I realized that she had relied completely on Kaisa to keep records, information, emails, etc. And she hadn't done it. As a result, the proposals for funds were horribly written, outdated, financial records barely kept, computer files a mess. And Amoun expected me to fix it. There were times I wanted to pull my hair out because she expected me to fix a years' worth of sloppiness, and didn't understand why I wasn't comfortable fudging financial information they had failed to keep records on, or that I witnessed were different than what was being reported. It wasn't intentional- Amoun's complete reliance on others made her extremely suseptible to this, though. Plus, I was amazed this wasn't something the center had run into before, relying completely on volunteers to do such critical work for a non-profit.

I'll be honest, I was kind of pissed, particularly since she has REFUSED to help me with this project, while she had promised to translate what I couldn't and recruit people. I felt abused, and there were days when I just wanted to give up. I had not signed up for this, and while I was more than willing to help, she wasn't doing her part, throwing me into fits of panic.

I decided to evolve my project, and while I'm still disappointed the oral histories didn't work out, when I realized the real reasons WHY it didn't, it was just as enlightening as if it had.

The reason I chose this community (outside of being in Jerusalem) was because I thought they would be open to this sort of project. I based this off of news articles, comments, and information shared by Amoun, stating how the community wanted to show the world their true colors, to dispand the wrongful stereotypes surrounding them. What better way to do that than with oral histories, an easy way to reach out and tell your stories? Since I laid out the first four weeks as a part of becoming acquainted with the community, I saw that I was not the only one interested in this unique story- documentarians, photographers, journalists, all stopped into the center, wanting to get an interview, photograph the community, share her story as a female fighting years of patriarchal society and societal oppression. Yet all she turned away, or only gave them an interview after the urging of a board member. Even then, it was the standard line found in ALL the news articles- as I listened to each one, I thought I was listening to a broken tape recorder. I was slightly confused- how was this opening up the community to the outside world? Futher, these were professional documentarians and photographers offering their services for free. And then I realized that Amoun had agreed to help me because she needed my help- and that actually getting her to uphold her end was going to be an uphill (and probably unsuccessful) battle. Up goes in smoke my critical component to making this happen.

When this became clear to me, I re-oriented my project, looking more at the current engagement with the municipality Amoun, as the center director, is having. At the beginning of the month, she had a meeting with Mayor Nir Barkat, who committed to finding a way to improve the situation of the Gypsies. I became intrigued in how this group would work to achieve that, particularly since how the Jerusalem municipality works concerning East and West Jerusalem is so convoluted and bizarre. How would this community, straddling the political and economical divisions, achieve their goals (separate post some other time)?

Anyway, it became clear that Amoun is teetering precariously on cultural boundaries, and THAT was why she was avoiding, as much as possible, my project. In reality, while she may say the community is ready to open up, you are only talking about 10%--aka, her family. While they want the services and funds she brings them, they are not interested in the rest. The reason is twofold: one, identifying as Gypsy in the community is a source of pride, but to others brings issues of discrimination- hence their advanced assimilation into Arab society. Two, she is a woman. What she is doing does not jive well in am entrenched, patriarchical society. Her brothers- people I admire, grew friends with, know she is the breadwinner (indicated by how she is the first to sit at the table during a meal, and they call to let her know what they are doing), but still enforce authority when they can. It is not a part of their culture to share with the outside world, and Amoun is breaking with that- at a price. This mirrors the constant culture clash that the 10% deals with wihtin the community and in their interactions with others- being a part of Arab culture, yet not accepted, compounded by their relationship with Jewish Israel. Good example: Amoun faced the potential of being branded a 'collaborator' by the Palestinians, her neighbors, because of her meeting with Nir Barkat, and was concerned about information about it getting out. It is constantly her culture, the culture she is surrounded by, clashing with those who have the means to acheive what her community needs.

Further, I think it is an issue of pride for Amoun. She hand-picked who she would let me talk to, and it was by far the most educated. Certain brothers and sisters were off limits- they were too 'simple' for this kind of thing, and would be of no use (despite my protests otherwise).

Another limitation on the direction I wanted to go was an internal feud between Amoun and the mucktar, or British-designated leader, of the community. She, and what she does, challenges his authority- despite the fact he does nothing positive for the community, outside of charging them to translate their governmental documents into Hebrew. I cut myself off to anyone on his side from the beginning simply by associating with Amoun. When Amoun went around with a researcher around 2000 to collect information, he started rumors about her, damaging her reputation (everything for a woman here, particularly since she is not married) and demanding people not participate. I was definitely not interested in putting her through that again.

I mean, I can't say this was the case for sure- but I got more than most people, sitting down with her sisters and brothers, than anyone else outside of a researcher who has worked with the community for years, and while they were so few, and hardly a picture of the whole community I was hoping for, it was a step. I learned SO much about Jerusalem, the Domari, and subject matters I hadn't anticipated. There is success in that, for sure.

I can go on talking about this forever, but I think I'll wait until I am able to put it into a more cohesive flow. In summary, I think I learned more from not achieving exactly what I wanted than if I had. Amoun and I had culture clashes of our own- which maneuvering and overcoming were a huge part of my education here.

PS I was still able to do a lot with identity and academic-oriented frameworking, so I'll put snippets of that together for a post eventually. Also, some parts of the interviews shall be posted for your viewing pleasure. Hope no one gets bored to death :)

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in the old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are,
One equal-temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.


-Ulysses, Lord Alfred Tennyson

I've recently had a literature craving, and read this poem for the first time (this is the end), and kinda fell in love. Dorkfest.


Highlights from the Past Week:

1- Found out if I was at the center, in East Jerusalem, and was on the verge of death because I was choking on an olive, then the ambulance would wait for a security escort to come get me. Apparently, I have been violating the terms of my agreement with UNC since day one: they don't include East Jerusalem in the areas I'm allowed to travel, since my insurance wouldn't cover me there. I thought I had waited until day two when I went to Nablus in the West Bank to ignore every single authority figure. I mean, I get the whole territorial thing is complicated with annexation and international dispute of Israel's right to do so, but I find it somewhat funny West Jerusalem asserts the concept of United Jerusalem by building a god-awful speed train through East Jerusalem, rather than providing a stinking ambulance in a decent amount of time. I'm avoiding olives this next week.

2- I think my Hebrew vocab bank has hit 10 words! Thank you, Ariel.

3- I now have officially 4 interviews with Domari, after multiple sit down come to Jesus meetings with Amoun that I was not giving up on making this happen. I had to buy a cheesecake, but she gave in. Also got some insanely amazing stuff from outside people, as well. I'll be posting some excerpts soon.

4- I've been at the hostel for so long, I was included in a dinner with all the people who work at the hostel. I decided to stay on the roof, so I've been sleeping outside for 4 weeks. I can't even describe how amazing it is- this morning, I woke up to watch the sun rise over the Old City and to hear the Call to Prayer. I'm going to miss this place so much, particularly hearing the owner, Chris, tell new people that his philosophy is "minimum cleanliness at the cheapest price".

5- This weekend I took a trip to Haifa and Akko in the northern part of Israel (pics up on side). It was purely for fun, and I don't think I've walked that much in a really, really long time. We couch-surfed (a service that connects you with people willing to share their couch for a few days for free). We stayed with two Israelis, one who was an American who made aliya after meeting her husband. It was interesting for me, because I didn't realized how immersed I was in East Jerusalem and the Old City, and being plopped in a Jewish home was a little bit of a culture shock at first. I'm going to save some other stuff about the trip for a separate post, but the highlights were:

(1) Not realizing that Lonely Planet maps are NOT drawn to scale, and that 10 minute walk is actually 2 hours;
(2) IDF Naval Officers on a sketch beach in Haifa, including one who was an excellent wingman for his non-English speaking friend (hey, Ariel, you like sailing and hiking? What do you know, so does he!);
(3) Walking out to a small reef in Akko and sitting on a rock in the sea;
(4) The multitudes of extremely friendly people, creepy fishermen who like 'free' beaches included;
(5) Akko in general;
(6) Shalom, y'all;
(7) Arabic, Hebrew, English, just pick one!!
(8) Druze Village
(9) Realizing that I'm okay on having to rely on others when needed;
(10) Peach beer?

I had to start taking my malaria pills for Kenya today, which really hit home that I only have one week left. This place is so vexing, frustrating, emotional, yet enlightening, challenging, stimulating, adventurous, and a mirror to hold up to yourself in pushing your comfort zones and preconceptions. In many ways, its where I feel most comfortable and content. I'm not sure I have the guts or patience to handle routine or normality anymore. For that reason, I really, really, don't want to leave. And I have no idea if that makes sense to anyone but me, but I'm sticking to it.

The Arabs' Arab

At what point do we say enough is enough? What standard of living is considered decent? What line do we draw and say, that is the best we can do?

Sure, they walk the streets to be spit on, see their homes set on fire, are called to the front of the classroom to be called 'nawar,' or dirty Gypsy, in front of all the students. Yeah, so they have the highest drop-out rate with less than 50% making it past middle school, the children are begging on the streets, most of the men are unemployed. They have clothes on their back. While food is carefully budgeted, they don't starve. They may crowd 8-10 in a room, but they still have a roof over their head. There are so many that don't even have this. Why don't we just call it a day, and say, insha'allah, things will change?

While many of West Jerusalem's services were extended to the Old City and East Jerusalem after 1967, including mandatory education, water supply, etc., today, when focusing on the Jerusalem population, the political, social, economic treatment is undeniably 'separate and unequal,' as described by Amir Cheshin, former advisor on Arab Affairs to Mayor Teddy Kolleck from 1984 to 1993. One doesn't need the words of an inside policy-maker to convince you of this- when I visit my friend in Rehavia, an Israeli neighborhood, I take the bus through East Jerusalem, walk by the Old City and then continue into West Jerusalem. One only needs eyes to see the drastic disparity in standard of living, public services, and infrastructure investment. Why this is the case is not the point here, so I want to leave the argument of Arab rejection of these services (because it would mean Israeli authority) versus the municipality's choice to only inject the minimum much needed money in East Jerusalem aside. Either way, it is obvious that disparity in basic governmental services exists. This leads to poorer schools, higher drop-out rates, limited infrastructure development, economic stagnation, and overall the exacerbation of the needs of the Palestinian population. A 'united' Jerusalem, but one with two very different appearances. One word that has been latched onto, as demonstrated in Roger Cohen's recent op-ed when he quoted Adam Bittlingmayer of Google, and in Obama's speech, is humiliation.

I traveled to Tel Aviv to meet Omri Kabiri, an Israeli lawyer who represents the Domari community pro-bono. His office is located in the Moshe Aviv Tower, the tallest in Israel, and the 8th tallest in the Middle East. In many ways, it is a testament to Israel's magnificent growth, matching its thrust onto the world stage politically with equal economic power. Amid many other towering skyscrapers, the modern cafes and trendy youth were a stark contrast to my typical surroundings of kaik bread and vegetable and fruit stands of Shu'fat and the Old City. And in this tower of modernity, in this wonderful man's office, I heard him use the phrase that was truly the summation of my observations and experiences over the past two months- the Doms were the Arabs' Arabs. As I have mentioned before, not only do they endure the limitations and -here comes the term- humiliations of being grouped with the Palestinians, but are oppressed by the oppressed. Their identification papers say Arab, the census says Arab, and the Israelis see Arab. But the Arabs see, call, taunt, 'nawar.' A 15 year old boy had his throat slit because the killer had been told that the a Gypsy's life had no value. When a Gypsy had many items close to her stolen, it became a laughing joke, the Gypsy got 'gipped.' The services that are offered through the municipality by Arab social workers hardly ever makes it to the Gypsies, and when it does, they work through the ancient mukhtar system (the individual of the community leader as appointed during British rule), rather than the most effective channels. They are considered unmarriable, and even when true love happens, too often the marriage is considered impossible because the Arab family would reject a Gypsy wife for their son. Their homes have been attacked, trees set on fire, pelted with stones.

Humiliation. Compounded by both sides. So much, that most of the youngest generation refuses to be identified as Gypsy. Their dance, colors, and nomadic lifestyle has slowly faded away. The language of old is just that- it is only with concerted effort to hold classes that the older generation can teach the younger the words of their spoken-only language.

Jerusalem, transformed in the 20th century alone from a sleepy town with religious significance, to center of Zionism, to a battleground in 1948 and a tenuous, divided frontier until 1967, a united city in name only until present day, disputed, claimed, idealized, revitalized, expanded, and continually in the spotlight, has housed this community for 400 years. They hid is St. Anne's church during the 1967 war, located right next to Lion's Gate, where the victorious Israelis entered the Old City for the first time since 1948. They remained in their homes, hiding out through both intifadas. They hold no ill-will, and they smile at the name of Rabin, while at the same time, find it almost impossible to travel freely to other parts of the world because Israel does not differentiate them as an ethnic minority or recognize their cultural heritage. While many left for Jordan long ago, those who remain are one with their home in the Old City- this small parcel of land, the source of so much hatred, violence, religious fervor, and focus- and therefore, their fate will forever be tied to Jerusalem, and everything that entails. After years of conservative rule in the mayorship of Jerusalem, the current mayor won because the orthodox majority squabbled among themselves to the point of division and election defeat. After Mayor Barkat, if the Orthodox get their act together, any hope for the municipality or government playing a constructive role in the development of the Domari community will be dashed. And this is something they drastically need. While living here longer than the majority, they are still forever at the will of the political, religious, and social divisions and dynamics of this unique city.

So, as we look into the future of this city, forever in question and examined, the question begs to be asked- what about the Domari? What is the best that can be done here, in this city, in this situation?

Hell if I know. I'm about at my wits end trying to make these interviews happen. The number of excuses and delays has hit the point of hilarity. Two weeks. oi.

Balance

Today was epic.

I took a break from the city and went out to the Ein Gedi National Park, which is on the eastern edge of the Judean Desert and the shore of the Dead Sea. Because the Dead Sea is the lowest place on Earth, and the reserve has drastic differences in elevation, there are some extremely unique features. There are two valleys; I was in Wadi David in the north.

I hiked a few different trails that wound around the valley, and it was just the therapy my mind was screaming for. So since its in the middle of the desert (aka hot- I feel like it wouldn't have been so bad in significantly cooler weather) and I was hiking up the valley-with some parts rivaling Mt. Sinai's Steps of Repentance, although not the duration- (therefore tiring, in hot, sun-burning weather), all you focus on is the next step. And the next step. Oops, don't fall on that rock. Next step. Hand grab for balance. Next step. You don't think about anything else. It was perfect. So perfect. I was by myself, and once I got past David's Waterfall, I only ran into other people twice in passing. Moving your arms and legs in tango, regulating your breathing, wiping away the sweat. You, the next step, and the magnificence and breathtaking scenery around you.

I stopped at David's Waterall, Ein Geti Spring, Chalcholite Temple, and Dodim's Cave- I went about halfway up the valley before having to turn around to make sure I caught the last bus. Dodim's Cave was about at that halfway point, and was the best part- the trail took you down into the valley, and required a little bit of strategic falling and trail searching. You climbed down a ladder the park provided into a spring and cave, which looked at a spectacular view of the Dead Sea. I took a dip in the spring, drifted in some much needed cold water, explored the cave. I had the entire place to myself.

And thought about nothing. Not a thing. Not about frustrating emotions, deadlines, functioning and all that entails in Israel. I think, maybe, this is why I don't need to rationalize this kind of beauty and how it came to be. It just is, despite thousands of years of weathering, climate, humanity and our destructive tendencies (for example, the awful tourist vendors on the dead sea)- it has stood the test of time and will continue to, not because someone decided so. This is one thing that will continue to be long after us- and I find so much comfort in that, whether by divine intervention or not. Maybe this sentiment has something to do with all the crazies you meet here and the mortifying things you see from all sides, but I felt the same last summer- I'm a proactive individual, I like explanation, action stemming from concrete and systematic understanding, rationality, what can be achieved with determination and effort. But this part just needs to be left alone. I don't want an explanation of how it came to be. I just want to enjoy it for what it is. Probably, I think, the only times I'll ever feel this way, and be okay with it.

I heard this week the story of a Domari child murdered by a Palestinian because he was told to- and a Gypsy's life did not matter. Also, the scar on her brother's face, reaching from his upper cheek bone to his mouth, I've seen multiple times- attacked because he was a Gypsy.

A Palestinian family killed their son because they suspected him of being a 'collaborator' with the Israeli enemy.

On the way to Ein Gedi, on a bus of 60 people, there was one Arab. Two soldiers got on about halfway through the trip, and questioned and checked only one person out of 60. Felt so heavy, (1) knowing why they felt the need to check this one individual, (2) that they only checked this one individual, and (3) no one was phased.

On the way back, a tourist was asking me about what to see in the Old City, and I mentioned Damascus Gate. She looked uncomfortable, and said, 'isn't it, well, dangerous, because, you know?' (Damascus Gate is the central gate for the Arab quarter of the city). Happily covered in dust and dirt, scraped up, sunburt to the core, I just smiled and responded, 'different doesn't mean dangerous.' And let it go.

Pics are up; side bar.

Don't Fear The Reaper

Sometimes I wonder if I wake up in the morning, take my brain out, and set it in a jar by the table, and proceed to be stupid is as stupid does the rest of the day. I forget my keys at the center on a regular basis, and end up having to go back for them. This time, I realized before the bus got back to Damascus Gate, so got off early- and I pulled my phone out of my bag to call Amoun, saw something drop, and said to myself, oh, it's just a piece of paper. I get off the bus in the middle of East Jerusalem to catch a another bus back to Shu'fat, and realize that what I dropped was my debit card. The only way I can get money out of my account. On some random Arab bus, that goes back to a parking lot filled with dozens of other buses that look exactly the same.

In this moment, as I am standing there (and smacking myself on the forehead when I realized what an idiot I was, much to the amusement to the Palestinians), I at first felt completely screwed. Then apathetic- I can live on 150 shekels for three weeks (not). Then, as I was listening to 'Don't Fear The Reaper' on my iPod (on my top 5 list) that I hadn't taken out of my ears yet, I was like hell, I'm going to get that card back if it kills me. So I waved down another bus, headed to the parking lot, and proceeded check every since 74 bus, to the bewilderment of the drivers, for my visa check card.

And I found it. And in this moment of triumph, all I could think about was screw being a female traveling alone. I've got this. For the past few weeks, I have gotten the 'you can't do that, you're alone and a girl,' or the multiple males of the hostel offering their escort services to dinner and elsewhere around, because they think I can't take care of myself, or the unending harassment from the locals. My favorite is the Mormons who I worked with for a bit at the center- they are around 70 of them from BYU for the summer, and apparently I have become famous as 'that girl who is in Israel and Kenya by herself'- I've been stopped on the street by them multiple times, and I don't think I've even met most of them. (Mind you, their program doesn't let them travel outside of the university except in threes, and have a 10:30 curfew). It honestly hadn't occurred to me as a big deal, until everyone else either 1- gawked at me, or 2- made it pretty clear they think I'm an idiot for doing so. So today I felt a big 'take that'- except a slightly more forceful word- whether justified or not. I chased down a bus, found my card, and did it with style (aka managing not to make an idiot of myself, except for the smacking myself in the head part).

Maybe this sentiment is a stupid one, and this sense of conquering the doubters just an attempt on my part to convince myself I'm not stupid for traveling by myself, but hell, it's a good one.

This sense of women empowerment might have origins in meeting an astounding woman this week, Hauwa Ibrahim. Let me just lay out the women in this room for the pre-Mayor Nir Barkat meeting:

1- Amoun. We all know what a bad ass she is.

2- Hauwa Ibrahim.-She is a Nigerian lawyer who defends woman in Sharia (Islamic) courts against adultery charges, of which the punishment is often death by stoning. She is the first women to stand up and address a Nigerian sharia law court directly, and Oprah is a fan. She has spoken at the anniversary of the Declaration of Human Rights, and is one of the most humble individuals I have ever met. She doesn't accept pay from her clients- not a cent. She dropped $500 on the center (Harvard gave her a lot of money to write a book), but then wouldn't buy an outfit for 90 shekels- the equivalent of app. $20, because it was 'over her budget'. (Her, Amoun, and I went to Jericho for the afternoon- I think I teetered between absolute awe and asking 2,000 questions a minute).

3- Anat Hoffman- Is one of those people that just lights up a room when she walks in. She brought me Tel Aviv ice cream (apparently the only kind of ice cream to have). This woman, in a city where enacting change is like trying to get gum out of your hair, has just bull-dozed her way through the opposition. Now the Executive Director of the Religious Action Center, she was formerly a Jerusalem councilwoman, and was a huge part of allowing women to pray at the Western Wall, and an advocate for equality of municipality services for Palestinians in Jerusalem. She is known as a 'David' against the Orthodox 'Goliath' of Jerusalem. I have an interview with her next week- I might pee in my pants.

4- Two of the other board members- Michaela and Daphna- who are forces unto themselves. Michaela is an American who performed aliya (immigration to Israel). She is a flamenco dancer, who has a strong presence in the non-profit world. Daphna is an American studies professor (I admit, it was funny to hear of people in other countries studying America- what, you study cheeseburger consumption and football or something?- she didn't find that funny). But she is pretty cool too.

Anyway, it was quite a gathering. As I sat in the meeting (which I got to contribute to and stategize for), I felt pretty darn lucky to be in such good company. While it has been a stressful week with Amoun (for anyone who saw my lashing out post that I later deleted when in a better mindset), it is moments like these that make me get over myself. That, seeing my chako/rainbows sandals tan develop in an interesting pattern, and sleeping on the roof of the hostel under the Jerusalem sky (glad I invested in a legit sleeping bag, it gets cold here), I can't help but scream inside with just how awesome this all is.

The first interview didn't happen- part of the frustration- but she promised tomorrow after I sat her down and made it clear I needed her help to make this happen. So we'll see. This Thursday I go to Tel Aviv to meet with Omri Kabriri, a HR lawyer who has worked on some of the legal issues to recognize the Domari as a legit minority in Israel.

So I know I didn't get to the food, or anything more about the community, but I know if I make this any longer people will stop reading. So soon, I promise! It will fit in nicely with a summary of the meeting with Kabriri. Oh, and the food. The rest of the world doesn't have a clue what it is missing out on with Gypsy food. Someone needs to give these people a microfinance loan to start a restaurant or something. Oh- and i've done some of the tourist thing- I'll get around to that eventually, too.

Wonderwall Techno Remix = Blasphemy.

So I realized today I picked the wrong week to be kind of lax on the blogging- whoops.

There was this speech I think the President made, and I think it was kind of a big deal? The commentary here, and on the blogosphere, has been non-stop. I just thought busting out the Arabic was awesome, even if he pronounced a few words wrong (I seriously cannot talk). I cannot even begin to summarize all the different reactions, and while I would love to use this blog to share some thoughts on it, I won't bore you. But in relation to my stay here in Israel, the strong policy emphasis on the end of settlement building has been extremely controversial here. (“The United States does not accept the legitimacy of continued Israeli settlements. This construction violates previous agreements and undermines efforts to achieve peace. It is time for these settlements to stop.”) I attended a rally in front of the US consulate the day of the speech, and there has been strong resistance from the Israeli government to bow down on this one. Further, there has been a lot of dialogue on what these means long-term for US-Israeli relations, and how much pressure we are willing to exert on each other. It seems to be working, as the two-state option that had seem previously to be dying is back on the table. How this plays out should be extremely interesting, as Netanyahu has to balance the critical relationship with the United States and the conservative elements of his government, which are keeping him in power- and they aren't a fan of the US approach to settlement building. Funny story, Netanyahu got upset at the US because they said that we weren't upholding the commitments of the Bush government, that we wouldn't challenge the existence and growth of the settlements- we shot back that they agreed to a two-state solution. Bam.

As he continues his tour (recently visiting the Holocaust sites), his every word is being followed (gasp, what does he mean by raising his voice with that word?!?!?) . What is the reaction here? One extreme (warning: a little vulgar) demonstrates how little tolerance SOME-highlight some- Israelis and Jewish Americans have for compromise with the Palestinians. Another great example is these poll numbers, which are probably a better representation than a bunch of drunk teens. At the same time, some are applauding his ability to take the middle road, while being honest and frank with both sides (An African-American President with Muslim roots stands before the Muslim world and defends the right of Jews to a nation of their own in their ancestral homeland, and then denounces in vociferous terms the evil of Holocaust denial, and right-wing Israelis go forth and complain that the President is unsympathetic to the housing needs of settlers. Incredible, just incredible. -Jeff Goldberg )

As a politics, diplomacy, and foreign policy junky, this is all just utterly fascinating to me- like, could I have picked a better time to be here?? Years of diplomatic standards and policy approach being challenged and uprooted- and I get to be here for it, and see how it plays out from the other persepective. I can't wait until I can do this for the rest of my life.

I could go on forever, but at least you have an idea of how it is all being seen here. I got a day off (first in three weeks) and went to Tel Aviv- the problem with getting the day off on Saturday is it's Shabbat, and NOTHING is open, outside of 24 hour grocery stores and some cafes. So while I went to Tel Aviv/Jaffa, I didn't get to see the hustle and bustle of the city, but it ended up being mish mishkilla. I took a sharut, which is like a taxi for a lot of people, (since they close the buslines on Shabbat) to the Central Bus Station. Now, since I brilliantly left my guide book in Ramallah, I didn't have a legit map or idea of where exactly I wanted to go, outside of the suggestions made by my native Tel Aviv friend. And since it was Shabbat, most of those suggestions were null and void anyway. So I decided, hey, why not just walk around a little? Yeah. Okay, except the fact the central bus station is in an extremely seedy part of town, and is home to large parts of the immigrant population (tons of Asians, who knew?). I caught on quick when I saw the prostitute getting arrested. Time to catch a taxi. I'm glad I decided to be the irresponsible American and do so, though- a side of Tel Aviv I would have missed by hanging out in the areas only suggested by native Tel Avivians.

Once in Jaffa (Yafo in Hebrew, I have issues since I pronounce it the Arabic way....), which is an extremely hold and historically significant port that is now a part of the Tel Aviv municipality, I was walking around, and heard a New York accent- said hey! and ended up meeting a NY Jew and her daughter, who were touring around. The woman, Lynn, had lived in Israel for a short period about 20 years ago, and married an Israeli before returning to the states. We ended up chatting and we decided to try to find something open (to little avail). Her experience twenty years ago provided a unique perspective- she kept saying how she didn't understand, everything in this part used to be open on Shabbat, that her and the other secular Jews would come here because it was Arabic, and stayed open while the rest of Tel Aviv closed. It is all Jewish now. She seemed utterly confused, but it made sense to me- Jaffa has a controversial recent political past, as it has been one of the places that Israel has been accused of trying to erase its Arab background and character. Once again, this is controversial, and I don't know enough to stake a claim. But I thought her observations were extremely telling.

So this mother-daughter duo proved to be super amazing, and invited me along back to main Tel Aviv with them. We found one of the only cafes open, and we had a lovely conversation- about their experiences with Israel (I got the advice to never marry an Israeli, too chauvanistic for American women), and a lot of other interesting stuff. While neither live here now, they have strong sentiments tied to it. All peachy, until they asked what I was doing in Israel. I mentioned my work with the Gypsy population, and the word 'oppressed' came up in my reference to the Gypsies. Bad word here. This wonderful, extremely smart (she is an educator, her daughter is an assistant district attorney in the Bronx), literally snarled, 'I have no sympathy for the Palestinians. They had their chance and squandered it. I defend my own.' Seriously, I wasn't even talking about the Palestinians. Topic change: wow, great iced coffee, yes? I can't win- she asked where else I had traveled, and I said Egypt, and that turned into, 'I won't go there because it is an Arab country; I know they hate me- and it doesn't matter to me, because I hate them too.' Um, so that guys' shirt, funny looking, huh? cough, cough. I just don't know how to respond to this intenseness, these irretractable hatred for someone you don't know, heck, an entire population. I know it goes both ways (like the the recent attempt to stone some Israelis in Nablus), but it astounds me how we we can vilify, dehumanize, and in turn oppress entire peoples: and its easy just because they aren't one of us. This doesn't just apply to this conflict- the Gypsies- I'm saving some astoundingly bigoted reactions I've had about the Gypsies for a separate post-, antisemitism, the immigrant populations, the caste system, begging children, Africa, and it goes on and on. At what point is our psyche so tuned out to these things? Humanity, I'm a fan, but really. I kind of wanted to bust out with te 'Joy to the World' lyrics by Three Dog Night- anyone else remember that one? Totally still know the hand motions.

I genuinely enjoyed my afternoon with this pair, and we are going to meet up in Jerusalem; she asked me to show her around a few places. I'm not sure how I am going to tell her the places I know best are in East Jerusalem and the Arab Quarter of the Old City.

Anyway, Tel Aviv is a COMPLETELY different world from Jerusalem- pick up a hybrid New York/California beach city, have everyone speak Hebrew and look extremely attractive, and you've got Tel Aviv. The constant presence of religion in Jerusalem was starkly absent- I saw maybe 5 kippas all day and the females were all in typical US summer clothes (I was by far the most conservatively dressed with a longer skirt and 3-quarter sleeved shirt) while in Jerusalem, everyone wears kippas and collar bones can be scandalous. It was like two sides of a coin. Oh, and to reference the title of the post, I was walking along the Mediterranean beach (SO beautiful) when I heard a techno remix of Wonderwall by Oasis. No. Absolutely not. It destroyed everything wonderful about that song. Tel Aviv, you may be forever on my minus list for that.

Next post: preparing for the meeting with the Mayor, spending the day with Hauwa Ibrahim and Amoun, Jericho, some research updates/general day-to-day stuff of my work, and FOOD. Not that you cared about what is coming next, I just need to remind myself. I start interviews tomorrow! (finally....) Wish me luck!

You are Such an American

This was fun here. I got to see a anti-Obama/US policy protest in front of the US consluate, and found it more humorous than anything.

A few comments on hostel life:

1- You never get over seeing the European men walking around in whitey tighties.
2- Personal space? What is that?
3- The Russians refuse to speak English and steal all the blankets, the Germans demand locked doors and private bathrooms, the Brits bring the alcohol and call everyone 'bloody mad', the Swedish flip their blond hair, the Israelis tell everyone else what they are missing in Tel Aviv by being in Jerusalem, the French keep to themselves, the Aussies charm with the accent and a smile, no one can figure out what the Czech guy is doing, and the Americans kick ass. I'm not biased, or anything.
4- The pillows rival the 300-year old building in age, with the smell and stains showing it.
5- The showers are the dirtiest places in the building.
6- Everyone has been to Egypt or is going there, so I get to talk about it. A lot.
7- Free tea and coffee! But good luck finding a cup.
8- 4 am Call to Prayer; 7 am church bells. That's what you get for living in the Holiest City in the world. Although the Jews are currently winning in my book for not having a morning wake up call.
9- All of it rocks. I love every minute of it.

I got approval, and Amoun gave her go ahead. So the whole pity-party has been thrown and tossed out the window. Thanks mucho for the emails and love, and more details on things are to come. In the meantime, enjoy some local Israeli music I was given; the second one is really awesome- it is a song of the bumber stickers you see around Israel.

first is Axum, the lighter skinned guy is my good friend Jackson Judah. It is a bit of Israeli reggae mixed with hip-hop and some Ethiopian styles.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sDt2hHNZDfM

The is Hadag Nahash (fish-snake) and their famous Sticker Song. This one has English subtitles.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Omt29oQe5RI

"It's wonderful what we can do if we're always doing."

The quote, from my ever-growing quote arsenal, is from George Washington. I'm having some serious missing the US-of-A pains this week, mostly because, for the life of me, I can't feel productive. I want so desperately to feel productive again. I just don't think its possible here. Or I'm good at making excuses. One of the two.

So the next week determines whether this project is actually going to work or fall apart at the seams. I resubmitted my IRB with the corrections (for those not familiar, the people at UNC that make sure I'm not giving them a bad reputation/following ethical standards in my research), and if they don't approve it in the next week, I'll literally run out of time to do the interviews. Which is bad. Not an epic failure since I still have the literature research, but bad.

Plus, Amoun is having a mental breakdown, because of everything crashing down at once. Which I have no idea how to handle, especially when her epic defeatist mood transfers onto me. And since the girl who took care of most of the administrative stuff left right before I came, leaving no information for me, I'm having to figure EVERYTHING out about how this organization runs to do anything (Amoun apparently did very little in terms of the actual administrative stuff because of her limited written English skills), which means I'm working on that stuff all day, plus teaching English and having to develop a program that doesn't exist right now to do so by myself, and having to do research at night. I'm not even sure she is going to be up to helping me with the interviews, now, either. I'm a tad bit stressed, to say the least. I was planning on helping out, but taking on the whole administrative structure (if you could even call it that) for a non-profit was not what I was expecting. Part of me is mad that she throws all of this at me, part of me just feels overwhelmed.

On a positive note, I'll be writing an article for a German publication on the Gyspy community.....

Oh, and I'm also running out of money. I had to pay 5 bucks today for crappy spaghetti sauce. Noodles not included. US economy, you are KILLING me.


I have a lot of cool cultural stuff to talk about and some crazy people to make sarcastic comments about, but I'm too exhausted to do so right now.