walking and talking
For the first time today I wandered off the grounds of the village and walked for a while through Bethlehem by myself. The surface purpose of the visit was to get myself some food and a hot pot so that I might be able to eat during the day before 5 pm (there are only four of us in the village who are not fasting for Ramadan, and I feel guilty imposing on the other three for food everyday). In truth, my days thus far have been fairly empty, since everyone else is in school and busy with Ramadan preparations. I won't start teaching for another week or so, so my only job right now is to "get to know the village"...this leaves a lot of hours in the day to their own devices. We all know how well I don't do with free time, so I decided to take a walk.
As I trudged up my first hill this morning (Bethlehem, like most of Palestine/Israel/whatever-you-want-to-call-it, is all hills, all the time) I noticed the number of construction sites left unfinished. It seemed like every other building was either only half-built or undergoing some kind of restoration, but only a few actually had people working on them. I get the impression that, since the EU and the US cut funding to the Hamas-led government, most of the municipal projects have stopped or have been significantly slowed. As a result, the only projects that can continue are those that are funded by individual donors or by humanitarian organizations. Overall Bethlehem is a beautiful town; it's sad to see it deteriorate at the hands of a power-struggle.
After iftaar this evening, the employees and some of the older kids played a ping-pong tournament. They take their ping-pong very seriously here...At times I felt like I was watching an Olympic match. At any given moment there were no less than 25 spectators watching the games anxiously, and each point was followed by yelps and cheers. A lot of these people have known each other for their entire lives; for example, the director of one of the boys' youth houses, a really friendly guy of about 35, I guess, grew up in the village, went to college, and came back to work as a supervisor. These kinds of ties make it difficult to break in as an outsider, but at the same time I'm so impressed by the comfort and closeness of the community.
After the tournament ended, I had a long conversation with one of the activities coordinators here about his life in Bethlehem. He has lived in this part of the West Bank for his whole life, and just started working at the village last year (he explained to me what he did before coming to SOS, but my Arabic skills aren't yet honed enough to pick up the details...). The village is on top of a hill: looking out onto the glowing landscape, he showed me Jerusalem, the big football stadium nearby, the checkpoint separating Bethlehem from Jerusalem, and the nearby Israeli settlement, the largest of its kind in the West Bank. Since Israeli security tightened during the intifada, most Palestinians cannot pass into Israel, and only a few can obtain permission to work in Jerusalem.
When I first arrived, the village director explained to me the relationship between life as a member of the village and life as a member of the Palestinian community, socially and politically. He said that they are always aware of the political situation, but that once inside the village, it is no longer a primary concern. I wasn't sure what exactly he meant at the time, but I see now how the community in the village acts almost as a shield from the politics and conflict that exist outside. On the one hand, the two are inseparable: the conditions under which the children arrived in the village are a direct result of the political violence, and their education and medical services are slowly deteriorating as the situation worsens. On the other hand, once inside the village, the children develop in an environment that focuses not on conflict but on preservation of Palestinian culture and produces educated, tolerant individuals comfortable with diversity. Even though these first few days have been somewhat lonely and a lot overwhelming, I'm learning something new from them everyday.
As I trudged up my first hill this morning (Bethlehem, like most of Palestine/Israel/whatever-you-want-to-call-it, is all hills, all the time) I noticed the number of construction sites left unfinished. It seemed like every other building was either only half-built or undergoing some kind of restoration, but only a few actually had people working on them. I get the impression that, since the EU and the US cut funding to the Hamas-led government, most of the municipal projects have stopped or have been significantly slowed. As a result, the only projects that can continue are those that are funded by individual donors or by humanitarian organizations. Overall Bethlehem is a beautiful town; it's sad to see it deteriorate at the hands of a power-struggle.
After iftaar this evening, the employees and some of the older kids played a ping-pong tournament. They take their ping-pong very seriously here...At times I felt like I was watching an Olympic match. At any given moment there were no less than 25 spectators watching the games anxiously, and each point was followed by yelps and cheers. A lot of these people have known each other for their entire lives; for example, the director of one of the boys' youth houses, a really friendly guy of about 35, I guess, grew up in the village, went to college, and came back to work as a supervisor. These kinds of ties make it difficult to break in as an outsider, but at the same time I'm so impressed by the comfort and closeness of the community.
After the tournament ended, I had a long conversation with one of the activities coordinators here about his life in Bethlehem. He has lived in this part of the West Bank for his whole life, and just started working at the village last year (he explained to me what he did before coming to SOS, but my Arabic skills aren't yet honed enough to pick up the details...). The village is on top of a hill: looking out onto the glowing landscape, he showed me Jerusalem, the big football stadium nearby, the checkpoint separating Bethlehem from Jerusalem, and the nearby Israeli settlement, the largest of its kind in the West Bank. Since Israeli security tightened during the intifada, most Palestinians cannot pass into Israel, and only a few can obtain permission to work in Jerusalem.
When I first arrived, the village director explained to me the relationship between life as a member of the village and life as a member of the Palestinian community, socially and politically. He said that they are always aware of the political situation, but that once inside the village, it is no longer a primary concern. I wasn't sure what exactly he meant at the time, but I see now how the community in the village acts almost as a shield from the politics and conflict that exist outside. On the one hand, the two are inseparable: the conditions under which the children arrived in the village are a direct result of the political violence, and their education and medical services are slowly deteriorating as the situation worsens. On the other hand, once inside the village, the children develop in an environment that focuses not on conflict but on preservation of Palestinian culture and produces educated, tolerant individuals comfortable with diversity. Even though these first few days have been somewhat lonely and a lot overwhelming, I'm learning something new from them everyday.
posted by kate at 12:53 PM
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