My Trip to Yatta - Part III

I decided i would write more about my trip to the Palestinian village of Yatta for a few reasons. First, i don't think such an experience should be left incomplete. Also, from more than one person, i have been asked what happened to me. Was i brainwashed there? What's the deal? Well, i have a few things to say about that. The way i view Israel and the Palestinians did change this summer. It changed in Geneva as well as in Israel. I think it should always be changing as we learn more, as we grow older, as our perspectives change.

What's the grand observation? I'm not sure. I had a conversation with my dear friend Greg, who every time i speak with him i get years wiser. I told him about the end of my journey back from Hevron. Here is was the soldier in the army truck saw when he pulled up to me and asked me to get in the back to ask me some questions: a random white kid, getting out of a Palestinian car, with Palestinian plates, traveling from a Palestinian village. He gets out of the car, hugs three Palestinians, then walks across the road to a Jewish settlement to wait for a bus. I'm sure shalom achshav-niks (peace now folks) or the extreme left would cry wolf and cry injustice about this development. It made me feel good that they were doing their jobs, finding out what the matzav (situation) was.

Anyway, back to what i was trying to say. It is a fine line that i'm trying to walk between having trust for and faith in humanity, and trying to be true to myself and not get myself shot or blown up. Often, the line she is fine. Whether its going to Yatta, or hitchhiking in the galilea, or even
couchsurfing, it deals with the same debate. Some are free souls with true faith in every living being, and i see them get burned on many occasions. I also see the opposite

Me and Lisa are going to lunch. I'll finish later.

Trip to Yatta Part II

Anyway, back to my day. I got off the bus in perhaps the closest place I could have to our meeting place, but it still didn’t do. I made friends with a few pottery artisans. Not only did they give me a really nice mug defaming my religion’s second holiest place by calling it “Abraham’s Mosque”, but he even knew the family I was going to see. He said he was going to drive me to them right now….yeah, I kinda figured I wouldn’t hop in a car with someone I just met randomly in Hevron, except for Ali’s family of course. I called the family to get it straightened out. Its not that I don’t trust people, in fact, as I am also a new member of couchsurfing.com, and a huge fan of hitchhiking (though i wont do it in the states, dad) I’m trying to place a bit more faith in humanity.

He gave me his card, if I should ever need anything if I’m in the area again.

I finally met up with the family, and we took a nice drive with the wind blowing every which way, out of Hevron to Yatta. I was forced upon with various cucumbers and plums. It was very pretty, as the Samarian hills often are.

When we pulled up to the village, it was what I expected I guess. A respectable place, not lavish, not a P.O.S. We pulled up to the front gate and Abu-Jamal had us stop for an explanation. The front gate can be closed if a soldier comes over and does so, and no one can leave until he opens it back up. There was also a nice red sign in front saying “Yo, the Palestinian Authority runs this piece. Step off. No Israelis allowed.”

We had snack time at least 4 times, tea time twice, coffee time twice, and a very sizable feast for lunch. I got there and we had a snack o’ fruit, and I met the family. The place is like compound – its all a whole concoction of family, the brothers own houses next to each other and kids are everywhere, its massive, its beautiful, and the granite stone floor is everywhere and astonishing.

We took our shoes off and entered a living room where we sat and talked (mostly in English, but some had bad English and good Hebrew, so we spoke that, but also they wanted to test my Arabic skills, which improved throughout the day) and met the family, and I further tried to learn exactly how everyone is related to everyone else.

I’m not sure where in the entry this would go, so I’ll say it here. I am completely at a loss of words for how generous they were to me. I walk in the door, and they address me as family, treat me like family…Abu Jamal kept saying, “How many sons do I have?” “Seven,” I’d reply, “and 24 grandchildren.” “Yes, but today I have 8 sons, Daniel.” Ali actually called in the afternoon and we passed him around, and when he handed me the phone, he said to Ali, “here’s your brother, Daniel.” Hahaha.

too tired to finish this _______

Hiked 40 km from Mt Meron to Tiberias...ran dangerously low on water...sleeping for a week.

i'll finish this later.

My Trip to Yatta - Part One (of three or four...maybe)

The Day I was Abu Jamal’s 8^th Son

Today was a day where I took some risks, and I owe a tremendous, perhaps life changing experience to my good friend Ali, who came up with an idea to go visit his family fom Yatta, a village on the south side of Hevron.

I will describe parts of the day, and include some thoughts, but I will update this many time before I am done. There are many thoughts I want to share, and which I will miss the first time, because it is midnight after a long day as I type this.

THE MOST IMPOTANT THING ABOUT THIS ENTRY IS I want to be very honest about my thoughts and feelings, as best as I recall them.

This morning I woke up, and got ready for the day. This entailed picking what to wear, which I spent more time thinking about than most days. Its not that I wanted to make a good impression, I wanted to wear something that wouldn’t draw negative attention to me…basically, no Hebrew, no Israeli flags, no blatantly American clothing. I was walking down from where I live to the bus stop, and checked myself over.

Bingo, my bling bling “Israel @ 60” rubber bracelet had to come off…I didn’t even want it on me, so it can pour out of my backpack sometime…I took it off and put it on a fence near the bus stop. I’ll grab it tomorrow if its still there. I suppose this action can be explained by trying to do as little stupid and life threatening things as possible…

I have been in touch with Ali’s mother, who is from this small village of Yatta, over the past week. I boarded a bullet proof Egged bus from the Jerusalem Central Bus Station headed for Hevron. I was one of two people not wearing a kippa, or head covering of some sort.

We passed through the main checkpoint to the West Bank. Of course, its very easy to go into the WB, harder to get out, especially with a green (Palestinian) license plate. We road past settlements like Kiryat Arba, and other smaller ones. You pass the beautiful rolling hills, the layered teace style hills with olive trees, on your way into Hevron. First we pass the Jewish section, the smaller section of course, which is cleaner, greener, and without much personality. Next we head on down to the old city, where I get off. I get off the bus right near an IDF (Israeli Defense Forces) post. I say hello to them, and walk down the road to get my bearings to call Ali’s cousin, who speaks Hebrew, who was with his uncle, also the mayor of Yatta.

Now his nickname is Abu-Jamal, meaning the father of the eldest son, Jamal. This man has 7 sons, 1 daughter, and 24 grandchildren.

Also, referring to nicknames, my father’s name would be Abu-Daniel, because I am the eldest son. Daughters don’t matter in these nicknames, they’re cool though. Maybe in our Western liberal culture, bob can be Abu-Lala. (that made sense to a couple of you)

I have much more to say. Stay tuned for the rest (most) of the story.

Adventures

I cant tell you how much i have enjoyed watching about 20 hours of live Tour de France action so far.

I have written my last thee articles for Jpost. I hope at least one of the three gets in the paper. I had so much fun at today's interview. I went to the Bank of Israel and had a one-on-one with the head of currency. They sat me down, offered me drinks, a coffee and a soft drink, whatever i want, and we got to work. It was fun. I'm nicer than most journalists. In the world of journalism i am the nice guy. I don't get the juicy stuff all the time, but i can call someone after an interview and they are happy to hear me....its a trade off. Me wearing a shirt and tie (which really stands out in the israeli summer time) totally scored me credibility with my interviewees.

I am going on two adventures in the next few days. I hope i am in good health to tell you about them....just gotta drink plenty of fluids, and hope Sam finds the mosquito net.

Nine hours of sleep is the same as seven - but with 9 hours i think things like "you got nine hous, you're not really tired, just thirsty, or digesting, or something. Drink some water. Go for a walk."

I also have my grand finale, the packing blog, to be written from midnight to 4 am on the 27th. Will be a blast. My computer broke again. I'm using an external mouse and keyboard now. Pshh.

See you soon, alligator.

Random Observations

Well, i hitchhiked for the first time in Israel. Glad i crossed that one off the list.

I spent the weekend at my cousins in the West Bank. Lots of food, lots of babies.

Here are some observations about life in Israel:
*All birthright kids get glassy eyed and have definite sensory overload.
*Girls like it when you listen to them; babies like it when you make funny noises.

I have two flashbacks this past week:
*Waiting for Busi to open on a saturday night after shabbat, sitting on the giant bomb shelter in front of it.
*Ein Gev, the last weekend of Machon in Israel. It was so glorious. One of the best weekends of my life, hands down. So much happened. Everyone there has a great memory from there. Oddly enough, when i biked the Sea of Galilea which you're not supposed to do in the summer time and almost died (more on this tomorrow) i was fading when we past Ein Gev, and the flashbacks and memories saved me...either that or distracted me for 10 km or so.

Probably a couple more blogs. Operation get my shit home is ongoing, and going smoothly. Thanks to all the loyal colleagues who have supported me in this. (more on this...in my last blog)

Hangin' with Mr. Yuval & Cricket Education - still in progress...i'm going to work and finishing

I've put this post off a little bit, but now i will write up a brief synopsis of my adventures. Yuval's place is awesome. Its not an apartment per se, its a little house, with a yard with outdoor furniture and stuff. The outdoor furniture is key in israel because the places usually arent huge, and there is zero risk of it raining 7 months out of the year. People rejoice when they see cloud in the summer time.


Every morning we started the day off with a nice finjan of arabic coffee, along with your israeli chocolate of choice; sometimes had one in the afternoon too. Each night we usually had tea, which was made from the various spices that were growing in the immediate vicinity such as nana (mint) or lemon grass. I have informed A-ron that we will be growing those at our house this fall and doing the same.

Te first day was a true cultural experience. We went to the Rosh Ha'ayin shuk. Yuval said the first thing that happened to us when we got there sums up the whole place. We were standing in a line of cars to park, and the parking attendent flags us over. "Go ahead!" "I was waiting in line, i thought i'd let this guy pass." "What is a line? This is Rosh Ha'ayin!"

Its a small Yemenite town. The shuk was crazy, with your fair share of bad techno and amazing malawach, which we endulged in of course. Possibly the best i've ever had. Next we hiked over to an old fort built in the Herodian era. We just snuck in to have a refreshing beverage on top. From there you could see all of the coast, from Bat Yam, to Yaffo, Tel Aviv, Herzliyah, Ramat Hasharon, etc.

On the way back down we saw a guy with thick gloves and a contraption with a long rod with a rusted sawed open can on the end. This he used along with a machete to capture and de-thorn sabra fruit (cactus), which just grow in the wild. He offered to liberate us a few, which we enjoyed gladly. Thank you crazy sabra man, as he himself was a true sabra.
Now it was a hot day. Yuval suggested we stop at a nearby natural spring to wash our faces off. Eventually that evolved into stripping down and jumping in. Funny how that happens when the sun is having its way with you.

After that we went to a an Arab village called Jaljulyah where we ate some solid hummos ful, and bought some fresh coffee, which my colleagues over at Finjan Club in East Lansing will taste soon enough b'ezras hashem.

The next day we Tel Aviv'd it up, enjoying the new northern boardwalk and some great shakshukah, a walk along the Yarkon river, and a small survey of Tel Avivian graffiti.

So goes a great weekend.

As far as cricket goes, i went to Ashdod to cover the match. Some guys gave me some Goldstar and bisli, and coaches me a bit on the finer parts of the game. It was enjoyable. I'm glad to have gotten the first game under my belt.