The boys are asleep on either side of me, snoring softly. A half-eaten pita and empty beer bottle rest beside my thermometer, my companions for the weekend. I am exhausted, but the reasons behind it go far deeper than the early morning hour. Yet again, I have received some harsh news, and now I know that I only have one more straw to break before this camel might fall from the very weight of this holy ugly city. I hate to write so negatively, but it feels like the truth, and so, I'll write honestly.
The truth is, I do almost nothing here. I find myself uninspired by the exclusivity of Jewish and Muslim culture, by the fact that I don't understand not one, but two, languages my friends speak, and so I'm often left out of the loop. After so many months, I still can barely read Hebrew and my Arabic may have even gotten worse than when I left. My health seems to be precarious, at best, and I've spent the past week in bed with some variant of the flu. I have been fired from two, going on three, volunteering gigs here, have made about three friends, including my boyfriend, and have done almost nothing except work on disappearing for months. Moreover, I've spent thousands of dollars without working and without much to show for it, except for broken dreams and a sense of feeling even more so in the dark about what I want. All I know is, I want out.
The sad thing is, I felt almost exactly the same way in the states- as though I had no opportunity to really make a living for myself, to make a life for myself, and I felt I HAD to get out. Now, I'm out, and the feeling remains. Which tells me something: this feeling, it's within me. I haven't shined in so long that I think I forget what it feels like. What I know is that I've got to get ahold on my life again. I cannot let chance and fate and luck continue controlling me. Now, the question is how? How does one grab the reins when they've been dragging on the ground so long I don't even know they're still there? And I'm terrified I'm going to fall right off eventually... this ride can't last forever, and I don't want it to.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
Jerusalem 3rd Day
How does one fight for justice and peace? Do I maintain neutrality? Do I pick up a picket sign from the Women in Black that reads "Stop Occupation" in Hebrew, Arabic and English? Do I listen to the personal stories of those who have been literally beaten by Israeli soldiers, forced out of their homes and prevented from accessing clean drinking water, jobs and even their capital, without flinching? And what am I to make of the story of my roommate, Nadine, a Jerusalem resident who chose to break up with her Bethlehem boyfriend rather than marry and find themselves unable to live together?
Their stories are true. The Israeli government demolishes Palestinian homes seemingly at random. I witnessed the rubble today. The Israeli government is not finishing the wall, the wall which is meant to create checkpoints of security, nor do Israeli soldiers use the checkpoints to identify threats. We've driven our tour bus into the West Bank without stopping numerous times in the past two days. In the words of our Jewish Israeli guide, "I'm a smuggler. All you need is to know a few words in Hebrew and have a yellow license on the back of your car." And still, and still, there are no suicide bombers. It is not the wall which is stopping them- they can walk around the checkpoints if they so choose- however, Palestinians are making the choice to endure the occupation without violence.
How much longer can they make this choice before violence erupts again? The infrastructure is falling apart in the West Bank. Schools are turning away students due to severe overcrowding, sewers are overflowing, garbage piles up in the streets, without sidewalks, signals or space enough for the cars. The civilians of Jabal Muqabr Mountain contribute to the total 30% of the East Jerusalem population, pay their share of taxes to the Israeli government and receive 7% of total municipality funding (12% according to Israeli studies). The drive into the settlement, ma'el adomeem, which takes approximately 30 seconds as you cross a checkpoint is incredibly refreshing. They have green grass, in place of desert rubble, palm trees in place of a barren landscape, and beautiful homes in place of crumbling apartments.
The winds blew over our tour group today from the bottom of the valley where the ring of settlements around Jerusalem appears to be closing. One building, a police department funded by a private Jewish family of Los Angeles, stood alone in a place the U.S. State Department had forbidden. It was fully equipped with far more electricity lines and roads than one building should ever need. The future of the site seems fixed before the building has begun.
Their stories are true. The Israeli government demolishes Palestinian homes seemingly at random. I witnessed the rubble today. The Israeli government is not finishing the wall, the wall which is meant to create checkpoints of security, nor do Israeli soldiers use the checkpoints to identify threats. We've driven our tour bus into the West Bank without stopping numerous times in the past two days. In the words of our Jewish Israeli guide, "I'm a smuggler. All you need is to know a few words in Hebrew and have a yellow license on the back of your car." And still, and still, there are no suicide bombers. It is not the wall which is stopping them- they can walk around the checkpoints if they so choose- however, Palestinians are making the choice to endure the occupation without violence.
How much longer can they make this choice before violence erupts again? The infrastructure is falling apart in the West Bank. Schools are turning away students due to severe overcrowding, sewers are overflowing, garbage piles up in the streets, without sidewalks, signals or space enough for the cars. The civilians of Jabal Muqabr Mountain contribute to the total 30% of the East Jerusalem population, pay their share of taxes to the Israeli government and receive 7% of total municipality funding (12% according to Israeli studies). The drive into the settlement, ma'el adomeem, which takes approximately 30 seconds as you cross a checkpoint is incredibly refreshing. They have green grass, in place of desert rubble, palm trees in place of a barren landscape, and beautiful homes in place of crumbling apartments.
The winds blew over our tour group today from the bottom of the valley where the ring of settlements around Jerusalem appears to be closing. One building, a police department funded by a private Jewish family of Los Angeles, stood alone in a place the U.S. State Department had forbidden. It was fully equipped with far more electricity lines and roads than one building should ever need. The future of the site seems fixed before the building has begun.
First Day in Jerusalem
I am safe and sound, if not a little bit sleepy ;)! I saw all of Jerusalem yesterday... running... but I saw it. We visited the stations of the cross along with throngs of Christians from all over the world... little old men and women who had been waiting their whole lives to touch the spot Jesus did when he fell for the first time. Personally, I didn't get a whole lot out of it spirtitually, but I've NEVER seen the variety of people in one place, as yesterday.
The flight from London to TLV was a nightmare. A baby was screaming the ENTIRE flight and I was doubting all of my decisions- wresting with He that sharpens your skills and your nerves- all night. I had the row to myself, and the night was dark and endless. However, I prayed that I would meet a nice boy to take me to Jerusalem - and, at the end of the flight Ari- a 25 year old from Los Angeles with a yamaka who was exactly like Hunter S. Thomson from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, befriended me, offered to take me to Jerusalem and proceeded to explain his Zionist perspective from 4:30 to 7 a.m., when we arrived at the Sabeel convent by shuttle. As he had lived in Israel for some time, we argued over the actions of Israelis toward Palestinians, the wall, the killings, whether every Palestinian needs to die or not... as we watched the sun come up over what Israel has become in the past 40 years.
Bringing a Jew into the walls of a Palestinian convent was certainly a surprise for the nuns, however Ari and I had a blast exploring the grounds and sneaking ironic pictures of him standing on the cathedral steps. Getting directions from the nun, I then took him to our hostel, The Knight's Palace, which is actually a castle converted from the crusades in the heart of the old city.
As I approached, the Christians standing in front of the hostel started calling my name- Elizabeth! Elizabeth! When I introduced Ari to the Palestinian head of the hostel, Jamal, both eyed each other up and down- and I got A LOT of hard looks for bringing a Jewish boy with me. There is clearly so much I do not understand. However, they shook hands and said they wished they could be meeting under different circumstances, perhaps in a peaceful future. Afterward, Ari confessed to me that he could see that Palestinians were people too- "everyone is just a person"- and we both admitted that we had accomplished quite a bit before 9 a.m.
The food here has been amazing by the way- I'm eating breakfast as I frantically try to type this out. In the midst of our tour yesterday we were taken to a fantastic and glam restaurant, the hostel serves us breakfast and dinner in huge proportions- everything from eggs to tomatoes, pita and french toast, ham slices and olives.
The flight from London to TLV was a nightmare. A baby was screaming the ENTIRE flight and I was doubting all of my decisions- wresting with He that sharpens your skills and your nerves- all night. I had the row to myself, and the night was dark and endless. However, I prayed that I would meet a nice boy to take me to Jerusalem - and, at the end of the flight Ari- a 25 year old from Los Angeles with a yamaka who was exactly like Hunter S. Thomson from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, befriended me, offered to take me to Jerusalem and proceeded to explain his Zionist perspective from 4:30 to 7 a.m., when we arrived at the Sabeel convent by shuttle. As he had lived in Israel for some time, we argued over the actions of Israelis toward Palestinians, the wall, the killings, whether every Palestinian needs to die or not... as we watched the sun come up over what Israel has become in the past 40 years.
Bringing a Jew into the walls of a Palestinian convent was certainly a surprise for the nuns, however Ari and I had a blast exploring the grounds and sneaking ironic pictures of him standing on the cathedral steps. Getting directions from the nun, I then took him to our hostel, The Knight's Palace, which is actually a castle converted from the crusades in the heart of the old city.
As I approached, the Christians standing in front of the hostel started calling my name- Elizabeth! Elizabeth! When I introduced Ari to the Palestinian head of the hostel, Jamal, both eyed each other up and down- and I got A LOT of hard looks for bringing a Jewish boy with me. There is clearly so much I do not understand. However, they shook hands and said they wished they could be meeting under different circumstances, perhaps in a peaceful future. Afterward, Ari confessed to me that he could see that Palestinians were people too- "everyone is just a person"- and we both admitted that we had accomplished quite a bit before 9 a.m.
The food here has been amazing by the way- I'm eating breakfast as I frantically try to type this out. In the midst of our tour yesterday we were taken to a fantastic and glam restaurant, the hostel serves us breakfast and dinner in huge proportions- everything from eggs to tomatoes, pita and french toast, ham slices and olives.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Packing
I spent the day with my family. My parents, acting like it's my first day of college decided to take me shopping at REI as their going away present. Me, being the cheapest person about paying for necessities, and usually spending my money on coffee, restaurants, gas, beer and parking tickets, found this a rather painful experience. However, people always want to know: How can you afford to travel? Alright, it isn't expensive, but it does cost money (and since I put off committing to a job until I knew what my travel plans were going to be, I did accept outside parental support funds). Here's a breakdown to the point of departure:
Airline Ticket (Denver- London- Tel Aviv- London): $1085, Wholesale-tickets.com
Conference Cost: $1050
Passport (x2, expedited processing and shipping): $315
Backpack: $239
Hiking Shoes (Sample): $30
Travel Guides: $109
Rain Jacket: $99
Light T-Shirt (Used): $8
1.5 lb Sleeping Bag (Used): $48
2.5 lb Tent: $200
Desert- Style Long- Sleeve Shirt: $49
1.1 lb Sleeping Mat: $45
Nylon Capri Pants (Used): $32
Nylon Zip- Off Pants (Used): $22
Climbing Shoes (Used): $30
Socks: $5.49
Airline Ticket (Denver- London- Tel Aviv- London): $1085, Wholesale-tickets.com
Conference Cost: $1050
Passport (x2, expedited processing and shipping): $315
Backpack: $239
Hiking Shoes (Sample): $30
Travel Guides: $109
Rain Jacket: $99
Light T-Shirt (Used): $8
1.5 lb Sleeping Bag (Used): $48
2.5 lb Tent: $200
Desert- Style Long- Sleeve Shirt: $49
1.1 lb Sleeping Mat: $45
Nylon Capri Pants (Used): $32
Nylon Zip- Off Pants (Used): $22
Climbing Shoes (Used): $30
Socks: $5.49
Fears and Following your Heart
Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. Cor 13
...Why do we so consistently underestimate the value of words? Words can comfort and destroy, begin and end... they can change everything.
...
It is late, and I am spending my last night up, trying to pack and feeling completely overwhelmed, alone, upset and terrified of what may lie before me. However, I hesitate even as I type...
What am I afraid of exactly?
- I am afraid I made a mistake in quitting my job before finding another (when it took 50 applications and 6 months for me to find it in the first place).
- I am afraid I will be alone... and I don't want travel alone.
- I am afraid I will spend all my money and never make it back, that I will pack too little or too much, and that I will get stranded and waste my time.
- I am afraid I will be scorned for traveling and be thought of as frittering away my time.
- I am afraid that I won't be working or close to getting a "real job," and I will have to depend on others, the Universe and God far, losing my independence and pride.
- I am afraid I will forget who I am without my family, home, cell phone and possessions.
- I am afraid I won't be able to formulate a purpose to my adventure.
- I am afraid I am running away from not settling down and making a life for myself in Colorado, and that I will miss out on something by leaving.
- I am afraid that I will not fit in amongst the highly religious environment.
But you know what? I am about to do what I have been dreaming of and pining about for the past two years... I finally am heeding that voice that has been whispering in my ear, "Patience, you will go at the right moment. In the meantime, keep trying, keep listening and prepare..."
I'm sick to my stomach with fear because I am doing the thing I am most afraid to do, which is also the thing I know in my heart I must do. The truth is, I am following my heart, and this is what following your heart, instead of your fears, feels like when you are out of practice.
And that brings me such immense gladness, freedom and joy that the peace finally begins to flow from my chest to my throat, releasing the tightness, from my throat to my mouth, freeing my smile, from my smile to my temples, relaxing my worry lines. Today, I sing.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
What to make of it all?
At this point, cramming my mind with books about Jerusalem, Beirut, Palestine and peace, I'm struggling to know what to make of it all... and to understand what to do with myself in the final week before my departure. I once wrote of feeling the sweat fall off Peace's brow, for it is not without immense effort and campaign that Order is elected chief. As an American woman, my life is simple... if not without excitement. My bills are taken care of, my new job seems promising, I know that I would receive the best of health care, should I need it, and the grocery store across the street is stocked full. My family and friends are safe, my home is securely paid for and our war is happening a million miles away, fought by men and women I'll probably never even meet.
What more could I ask for?
How about the world?
What more could I ask for?
How about the world?
Monday, June 29, 2009
God is not an emotion
I've imagined that finding God is like finding happiness amidst a dark and unending depression. However, God is not an emotion... God is present in the darkest and angriest of times, times of great evil and times of immense glory. God is present when we are joyous and when we are grieving, when we are awake and in the full of life, and in our agonal gasps of death. God is there both as we sin and as we ask for forgiveness, as we falter and as we pray for strength.
So, if not by the singing of our hearts, how do we know when we've, "found God?" Is it truly only when we find ourselves pressed against the cold floor of a cell, alone and ostracized by all, imprisoned without hope, that we can clearly experience that perfect expression of peace? Why is it that we find God when we could not be more replete with strife, oppression and anguish?
So, if not by the singing of our hearts, how do we know when we've, "found God?" Is it truly only when we find ourselves pressed against the cold floor of a cell, alone and ostracized by all, imprisoned without hope, that we can clearly experience that perfect expression of peace? Why is it that we find God when we could not be more replete with strife, oppression and anguish?
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Scholarship to Sabeel Conference
Every morning I pray the same prayer, "Lord, guide me, fill my heart and let me live in service to you. Light the next step on my path and give me the strength to take that step." My prayers have been answered, and my patience has been tried. The darkness has not quite risen from my course, but I have finally received enough light to guide me.
At this point, I have only had a vague dream of going to the Middle East for the past two years, if not ten. I have not known how or why or where or when, but this vision has stopped me in my tracks from moving on in my life. The truth is, God put this dream into my heart, and one cannot fool her heart, and He has now made it possible through the Friends of Sabeel-North America www.fosna.org.
After seeing a presentation on a pilgrimage to Israel at St. Mary Magdalene's Episcopal Church in Gunbarrel, Colorado nearly two months ago, I expressed my interest to the presenter in visiting Israel with a Christian group.
To be clear, I hesitate to affiliate myself with any religion, as I believe these ties to doctrine can alienate us from one another even more than bring us together. It is difficult to align oneself with Christianity when followers have shown themselves to support war, oppress homosexuals and blatantly disrespect followers of other faiths. As one who morally opposes war and supports civil rights for every human being, regardless of race, religion, sex or sexual orientation, I perpetually hesitate before identifying myself as Christian. However, faith supercedes religion, and my soul has yet to lose faith.
Raised Episcopalian that faith often finds a well worn path to my heart through the church. Thus, I knew that while I may not always find myself in agreement with my fellow Christian pilgrims, I would find comfort amongst them in a strange land with strange customs. The presenter, Rev. Mike Houlik, suggested that I contact the leader from his group, a kind woman who has led pilgrimages and visited Israel a number of times. Approximately four days ago, she pointed me in the direction of the 4th Annual Sabeel Youth Conference, and recommended that I apply.
I stalled. Not knowing whether or not this was the answer to my prayers, and having very little information about the contents of the conference I decided to just wait and see, making a few inqiries to individuals she had put me in contact with. Finally, through a series of now untraceable contacts, I found myself on the phone with a man in Pomona, California, who informed me that he was responsible for issuing scholarships to Conference goers through FOSNA. He also suggested that I finish my application quickly, as the acceptance deadline was within a matter of two hours.
Without a moment to hesitate, I did as he suggested and sent off my application, rapidly filling out questions about my age, profession, references and completing two essays regarding why I was interested in the Palestinian- Israel conflict and how I intended to bring information gained at the conference back to the United States. I promised them that I was surely passionate about the plight of Christian Palestinians and that I fully intended on keeping a blog about the goings on at Sabeel. Well, I only lied on one of the essays...
The truth is, I suppose I'm interested in the Palestinian- Israel conflict, but I don't really know much about the matter. It is constantly in the news, yes, but I hear the words, "Gaza Strip... West Bank... Palestine...." and switch the station. Without a personal relationship to the region, and it being a relatively small area of the globe, I have disengaged myself from it entirely. Plus, the news seems to be very important, but equally redudant, "bombs dropping... peace aggreements and negotiations in the works... fighting over settlements," etc. It's difficult to keep track of, and, when I do start to get a grasp on the issue at hand, I am so repulsed that I once again quickly lose interest.
I have a feeling that the peaceful and distanced apathy is about to give way to a passionate adventure. Today, I recieved an e-mail granting me a $2000 scholarship to help cover my airfare ($1000+) and conference fee ($1005) from the FOSNA. It is unbelievable to me at this point. Perhaps, when I wake up and realize this is not a dream any longer, but reality, I will grasp that this is a thing actually occuring.
At this point, I have only had a vague dream of going to the Middle East for the past two years, if not ten. I have not known how or why or where or when, but this vision has stopped me in my tracks from moving on in my life. The truth is, God put this dream into my heart, and one cannot fool her heart, and He has now made it possible through the Friends of Sabeel-North America www.fosna.org.
After seeing a presentation on a pilgrimage to Israel at St. Mary Magdalene's Episcopal Church in Gunbarrel, Colorado nearly two months ago, I expressed my interest to the presenter in visiting Israel with a Christian group.
To be clear, I hesitate to affiliate myself with any religion, as I believe these ties to doctrine can alienate us from one another even more than bring us together. It is difficult to align oneself with Christianity when followers have shown themselves to support war, oppress homosexuals and blatantly disrespect followers of other faiths. As one who morally opposes war and supports civil rights for every human being, regardless of race, religion, sex or sexual orientation, I perpetually hesitate before identifying myself as Christian. However, faith supercedes religion, and my soul has yet to lose faith.
Raised Episcopalian that faith often finds a well worn path to my heart through the church. Thus, I knew that while I may not always find myself in agreement with my fellow Christian pilgrims, I would find comfort amongst them in a strange land with strange customs. The presenter, Rev. Mike Houlik, suggested that I contact the leader from his group, a kind woman who has led pilgrimages and visited Israel a number of times. Approximately four days ago, she pointed me in the direction of the 4th Annual Sabeel Youth Conference, and recommended that I apply.
I stalled. Not knowing whether or not this was the answer to my prayers, and having very little information about the contents of the conference I decided to just wait and see, making a few inqiries to individuals she had put me in contact with. Finally, through a series of now untraceable contacts, I found myself on the phone with a man in Pomona, California, who informed me that he was responsible for issuing scholarships to Conference goers through FOSNA. He also suggested that I finish my application quickly, as the acceptance deadline was within a matter of two hours.
Without a moment to hesitate, I did as he suggested and sent off my application, rapidly filling out questions about my age, profession, references and completing two essays regarding why I was interested in the Palestinian- Israel conflict and how I intended to bring information gained at the conference back to the United States. I promised them that I was surely passionate about the plight of Christian Palestinians and that I fully intended on keeping a blog about the goings on at Sabeel. Well, I only lied on one of the essays...
The truth is, I suppose I'm interested in the Palestinian- Israel conflict, but I don't really know much about the matter. It is constantly in the news, yes, but I hear the words, "Gaza Strip... West Bank... Palestine...." and switch the station. Without a personal relationship to the region, and it being a relatively small area of the globe, I have disengaged myself from it entirely. Plus, the news seems to be very important, but equally redudant, "bombs dropping... peace aggreements and negotiations in the works... fighting over settlements," etc. It's difficult to keep track of, and, when I do start to get a grasp on the issue at hand, I am so repulsed that I once again quickly lose interest.
I have a feeling that the peaceful and distanced apathy is about to give way to a passionate adventure. Today, I recieved an e-mail granting me a $2000 scholarship to help cover my airfare ($1000+) and conference fee ($1005) from the FOSNA. It is unbelievable to me at this point. Perhaps, when I wake up and realize this is not a dream any longer, but reality, I will grasp that this is a thing actually occuring.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Diary Entry 1
The rain poured all night, lightning striking the backyard, and drops falling like an event, like something important.
Strangely, no one talks about war, they only report "on war," it is simply an essential part of the news. However, what is it that causes men to kill one another, and to risk their lives? Where do these murderous/suicidal impulses arise? The first answer that jumps to mind is: simplicity. Ending a life does not take much, and ending many is far simpler than just one.
Strangely, no one talks about war, they only report "on war," it is simply an essential part of the news. However, what is it that causes men to kill one another, and to risk their lives? Where do these murderous/suicidal impulses arise? The first answer that jumps to mind is: simplicity. Ending a life does not take much, and ending many is far simpler than just one.
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