From the West Bank to the Moon

I moved to Beit Sahour, a small town in the West Bank next to Bethlehem, for several reasons. I thought I knew fully what I was getting into in terms of crossing the military checkpoint daily (which hopefully I will write about in the next few days!), seeing life from a different perspective, and the increased need for Arabic.

What I didn't account for, however, was my increased "coolness" rating in the eyes of Israelis!

For those of you who aren't aware of the intricacies of the political situation in Israel and the West Bank, many West Bank residents are not allowed to go into Israel (you have to have a pass issued by the Israeli government if you want to go. People who work in Jerusalem, etc can usually get passes, and sometimes they are given to go to hospitals in Israel), and Israelis are not allowed to go into the West Bank (but settlers have changed the definition of what is the "West Bank"...which discussion I will not get into on this blog post).

This presents a very, very odd situation. There are many Israelis that live in Jerusalem that have never been to Bethlehem (the two cities border each other, kind of like Provo and Springville). The Separation Wall between the two cities limits travel quite effectively, but I have found that it also presents the idea of "anything behind the Wall = very dangerous" to the Israelis.

So naturally, when I tell my Israeli friends that I live in Beit Sahour (which is about as dangerous as Provo), they have one of two reactions.

Reaction #1--Freak Out. "You live in the West Bank?! Are you ok? Why do you live there? Don't you know that it's dangerous?" Some of them freak out in a very calm, scholarly way. "Oh. You live in the West Bank? That's...interesting. Why did you choose to live there? Couldn't you have practiced your Arabic in East Jerusalem?"

To these people, I just laugh and say that actually, Beit Sahour is much safer than East Jerusalem, in my opinion, and too many people speak English in Jerusalem!

Reaction #2--youarethecoolestpersonihaveevermet, iamsojealous, andwhatsitlikethere? This is naturally my favorite reaction. My coolness rating goes up about 400% when I tell people that I live in the West Bank. "Wow! What's it like there? What do they do for fun? (They go to bed at night. Seriously. The streets are empty at like 7:30 pm. It's not like Jerusalem, with clubs and restaurants that stay open. Nope. Everyone just goes to bed.) What are the houses like? What are the people like?" I am taking an Arabic class in the city (not at the university), and most of my class is Israeli men between the age of 24-30. One day they were asking everyone what they do to practice Arabic. ("Like, do you have Arab friends? Who do you talk to?" Such an odd thing to ask when half the city is native Arab speakers! Welcome to life in Jerusalem!) When they asked me, I said, "I live in Beit Sahour" like it was no big deal. And you should have seen the jaws drop around the room! "You live in Beit Sahour?!" they said wistfully. Now they ask me about it all the time. And I know they all wish they could just come and visit me, just to see what life is like on the other side (and use their Arabic!!).

A few days ago I was at a "mix-n-mingle" (it was the Israeli version of speed dating). I was talking to this guy, and after the first few "get to know you questions," he asked, "So what do you do for fun in Jerusalem? Like, do you go to clubs, or what?" And I was like, "Actually, I live in Beit Sahour."

"Wait, wait, wait," he said. "You just keep getting cooler and cooler. Next I expect you to tell me that you work for NASA and you're going to the moon tomorrow!"

So basically, me living in the West Bank is just as cool (and just as unfathomable) to Israelis as going to the moon!

I was talking to him a few days later and I said, "You know, I've been telling everyone how funny it is that you think me living in the West Bank is like going to the moon! I know you don't really think it, but it's a pretty funny story!" And he said, "No, no, I really do think it! To me, you living in the West Bank is just as unfathomable as you going to the main city square in Iran or Afghanistan just after the British got kicked out and shouting, 'I love the British!' or something like that!"

So there you have it. I might never make it to the moon, but I guess now I can claim something almost as cool. I live in the West Bank!

"Something There Is that Doesn't Love a Wall"

I thought that reposting this photo essay of pictures of walls in Jerusalem (especially the separation wall separating Israeli and Palestinian territories) and the poem "Mending Wall" by Robert Frost that I originally posted on my Arabic blog would be appropriate after my post on Hebron. When I read the poem several years ago, I immediately thought about the separation wall. When we build walls, what are we keeping in and what are we keeping out?

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,

That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,

And spills the upper boulders in the sun;

And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.

The work of hunters is another thing:

I have come after them and made repair

Where they have left not one stone on stone,

But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,

To please the yelping dogs.

The gaps I mean,

No one has seen them made or heard them made,

But at spring mending-time we find them there.

I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;

And on a day we meet to walk the line

And set the wall between us once again.

We keep the wall between us as we go.

To each the boulders that have fallen to each.

To each the boulders that have fallen to each.

And some are loaves and some so nearly balls

We have to use a spell to make them balance:

"Stay where you are until our backs are turned!"

We wear our fingers rough with handling them.

Oh, just another kind of outdoor game,

One on a side. It comes to little more:

He is all pine and I am apple-orchard.

My apple trees will never get across

And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.

He only says, "Good fences make good neighbors."

Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder

If I could put a notion in his head:

"Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it

Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.

Before I built a wall I'd ask to know

What I was walling in or walling out,

And to whom I was like to give offence.

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,

That wants it down!"

I could say "Elves" to him,

But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather

He said it for himself. I see him there,

Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top

In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.

He moves in darkness as it seems to me,

Not of woods only and the shade of trees.

He will not go behind his father's saying,

And he likes having thought of it so well

He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."