Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Reformation Day!
As I'm sure ALL of you have marked on your calendars...October 31 was not only Halloween, but REFORMATION DAY!!! Now, I have always kind of known that this day existed, but the day has never really been more than a passing thought on Halloween. It has never really meant something to me. However, on this October 31, that all changed.
Basically everyone I know in the Holy Land went to Redeemer in the Old City for a special service. It was packed! There was this really cool procession at the beginning where the Protestant clergy from all of these different countries walked in. There were men and women from the USA and Canada (I think they were all Lutheran..I actually think everyone who processed was Lutheran even though my Scottish Presby friend was asked), Finland, Denmark, Germany (3 pastors), Norway, and Jerusalem. They were all wearing their regional robes and fancy things and you know how I feel about that stuff...I was like a kid in a candy store! OH! And Bishop Younan walked in with a pope-like hat and his gold shepherd's staff. It was so cool!!! Well, the bulletins were in German (yikes) and a lot of the service and songs were in German, but every once in a while (for really important stuff) they would have one person from the three major languages in the area (German, English, and Arabic) go up to the mic. It was just so cool and overwhelming to be in this packed cathedral with Protestants from all over the world! The service was an hour and forty minutes, but I didn't notice b/c it was just such a special moment in my life. It was also really overwhelming when we all sang "A Mighty Fortress"!! Even though it was in German, the place was thundering!! Protestants are such a small, small population, but we went crazy that night!!
Then after the service there was a reception. As we were leaving the cathedral I noticed that all of these Catholic priests, nuns, monks and Orthodox, Coptic, and Syrian priests showed up!! I flipped out! WHAT WERE THEY DOING THERE!?!? They even came to the reception and one monk came up to me and introduced himself and said that he was having a great time (I had changed into my "Luther is My Homeboy" tee-shirt even though it was a formal occasion). I asked my boss what they were all doing there and he said, "When Christians as a whole make up less than 1% of the population, you become really supportive of each other...You can't afford not to." That really made me happy. The whole night was just a really great night and I can't believe I got to be here for Reformation Day! (Now it has become painfully obvious how much of a Church History nerd I have really become.)
Sunday, October 18, 2009
The Olive Harvest
I don’t know how to relay “The Olive Harvest” to my friends and family back home. For anyone who knows me AT ALL, it is pretty obvious that I’m not an outdoorsy kind of girl. I’m just not. Never was. I just want you to keep this in mind when I talk about this.
My job during harvesting season has been to clear and prepare the olive trees so that groups can come in and pick the trees for us. *SIDENOTE: The olives are made into olive oil, which are then sold all over the world. The money is then used for “The Poor Fund”, which aids Palestinian people who come in to the hospital and don’t have the money to pay for medical help.* There are about 800 trees that Brit and I have to go out and clear. Now, I know you’re asking yourself, “What do you mean by ‘clearing’ Stephanie?” Well, here is where the pain comes in.
Brit and I go out with clippers and mini saws and clear out all weeds, unwanted plants, and suckers (which are new braches that sprout near the base of the tree and use up a lot of water and sun, but don’t produce any olives). Alright, this doesn’t sound so bad right? Wrong. Just imagine the kind of weeds that can possibly last and thrive in the desert. These weeds have thorns like you wouldn’t imagine!! My arms and legs look like I either am suffering from millions of paper cuts or that a cat decided to use my limbs as a scratching post (and this is with pants and long shirts on). Alas, there is also the MULTITUDE of blisters that have formed and popped on my hands. On my first night after we started, I couldn’t open a door handle or squeeze a lotion bottle. My hands look like they have leprosy.
Then there’s Mother Nature. The olive grove is planted in what I can only describe as dust. It’s not sand and it’s not dirt. It looks and feels a lot like a combination of dust and ash. This, in turn, attacks the body and laughs hysterically. By the end of the day, we are COVERED in dirt (imagine that Peanuts character)! It is pretty hilarious when we come in and the only part of our bodies that aren’t almost black is where our sunglasses were. We just have a funny imprint of where our glasses used to be. It gets EVERYWHERE! When I blow my nose, I blow out dirt. After a shower, when I’m cleaning my ears, dirt. I go to the bathroom and pee dirt. It’s like glitter (don’t pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about). I’m fairly certain when I get home, I’ll still be finding dirt 6 months from now.
The second punishment that Mother Nature has decided to inflict on us, is the weather. It’s supposed to be Fall here. It’s supposed to be cool enough to wear long sleeve shirts and still be cold. It almost snowed last year at this time. And yet… It has been AT LEAST 100 degrees the last four days. It was 114 degrees in the sun yesterday. Let me repeat that for you…one hundred and fourteen degrees!! Working out in this heat is ridiculous!!
OK. Now here’s the part where I stop complaining and count my lucky stars (although I would almost kill for a little AC).
I’m seriously helping a lot of VERY needy people. This is really cool and I’m honored that I can do anything to help the people who need it the most. The blisters, dirt, heat, unexpected bugs, olive branches smacking me in the face, dehydration…it’s all worth it.
There are also some really cool people who donate their own time to come and volunteer to pick our olives. Today, the US Consulate came out in droves (on their day off) to spend their whole morning and afternoon-in the heat and dirt-to pick olives for us. They were some of the coolest people and they didn’t complain once. They then broke out this amazing BBQ/picnic (actually invited us to join) and we all got to have amazing food from home (including some seriously awesome Smores) and talk about living in Jerusalem!! Who does that?!?! Who gets to laugh, talk, and hang out with the coolest people who just happen to be the US Consulate?!?!
As much as I hate the outdoors and I can’t wait to be home in a library reading and researching---I am having the time of my life out here! I’m doing things that I NEVER thought I would be doing! I don’t know what I did right, but I am one seriously lucky chick!
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Frustration
I realized this week that I haven't written in a while and I wondered why. It's not because of lack of things to write about. If anything, this week has been more "exciting" then any of the others. Then I realized it's because I'm not "allowed" to talk about anything I've experienced in the last week.
I'm just getting so sick and tired of having to stay silent and having to lie. I have to walk around all of the time, lying about who I am and why I'm here because of safety issues. Then I can't talk about what I see or go through with my family and friends, because it's against the law and I could get kicked out of the country (or worse, cause serious harm to my co-workers). I have to be cautious about what I write in e-mails or facebook or what I say on Skype because the government reads and listens. I have so much to say and write about! There are infuriating things that happened to me this week, but I'm not allowed to say anything!! I even have to lie to the cab driver about why I live where I live instead of in West Jerusalem because I don't want to bring any unwanted attention!! UGH!!! I'm so sick of this!!
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Yom Kippur
Yesterday was Yom Kippur-the Day of Atonement in the Jewish faith. I had previous plans to go to Petra this weekend, but my boss said that Yom Kippur in Jerusalem is something that needs to be experienced; even if it is only once. About a week before the holiday, we all got e-mails from the government (well really it was really just my boss, who then forwarded them to us) telling us what cities and check points were shut down. Basically, if you didn’t live in Jerusalem (even if you worked here and had a pass and everything), you weren’t coming in. There was also a declaration that no cars could be driven on the Jewish half of Jerusalem.
My friend Brit and I decided that we were going to go to the Western Wall and then to the uber-orthodox neighborhood of Meah Sharim. If you haven’t heard of Meah Sharim, it is a VERY orthodox neighborhood in Jerusalem that has decided to basically stay in the 18th century. So they shy away from cars and technology and basically everything they want is within their neighborhood.
The Urban Dictionary eloquently defines it as:
A extremely religious city in Jerusalem that is known for being very conservative. It is filled with Haredi Jews that will woop your ass if you break a Jewish rule or expose too much skin.
When people come back saying that they were literally stoned for having shorts or a tee shirt on (Mom), this is probably where they were. So, Brit and I dressed up in our Yum Kippur best to try to look as much like an orthodox Jew as possible. Although, my boss rightfully stated that we weren’t trying to trick anyone into thinking we were orthodox, we were just trying not to offend anyone.
After the Western Wall (which was really cool, but can someone tell me why so many Jews sleep there over night during Shabbat and high holy days?), Brit and I headed to Meah Sharim. At first, it was really cool. Right near the entrance of the neighborhood were all of these orthodox Jewish kids playing with each other. This was a new site for us due to the fact that we live on the Muslim half of Jerusalem. We hardly get to see the Jewish community.
We then started walking through the neighborhood. There were so many children playing in the streets, men walking to services, and women pushing children in carriages. It was amazing to see all of these people in their orthodox dress! It really was like going back in time. My Church History self was loving it!
However, once we got about a block in, there was a noticeable change in the air. All of a sudden, I felt SO uncomfortable and slightly in danger. All of these people were staring at us and there were LARGE signs saying how unwelcome outsiders were (in large red lettering no less…I’m not joking. Red letters are REALLY scary!). It was the first time since I’ve been here that I have really felt scared. I was seriously terrified.
People had told us that to get out of Meah Sharim, you just walk 5 blocks in whatever direction. False. IF that is true, those were the longest 5 blocks of my life. 3 blocks in, I was literally praying that the end of Meah Sharim would come so that I could just get out. I haven’t wanted something so badly in a LONG time.
Well, eventually we got out (thankfully without getting hurt or having to talk to anyone-including each other. Brit and I both felt the same thing and not a word passed between us until we were a safe distance away. There was about an hour of silence) then we had to walk all the way back to the Muslim half of Jerusalem so that we could catch a bus and get home. My feet were black from walking so much!
Even though I was a little terrified, I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. I’m really glad I did it and I will remember this Yom Kippur for the rest of my life. However, I’m never going there again. Mission accomplished scary red signs!
Sunday, September 27, 2009
MMmmm...Mmmmm...Sanitation
As my Scottish friend, Ian (shout out!), so eagerly pointed out, I've been on quite the emotional roller coaster recently. So, I decided I would get off the Debbie Downer track and go onto the, "Aren't You Glad You Have Sanitation Laws?" track. This'll be fun!
Around here you get all of your produce and meat right down the street. Since everything is so fresh, you just kind of go to stands and butchers a couple times a week instead of once every couple of weeks (like you would do at home). I actually really like this and have gotten some what used to it. However, I don't think I will ever get used to the butcher here!
The reason we go to this one, as opposed to others, is because 1. he's down the street and 2. he actually has a refrigerator that he uses to put his meat in...sometimes. Just to give you a glimpse into a weekly meat shop experience, I thought I would take you through the first time I went to get chicken (and basically every time).
Stephanie walks in to EXTREMELY small and warm butcher shop at the end of the day. Butcher has nice pants and shirt on (points), but where is his apron? He is slicing a massive piece of lamb that's hanging from a hook in the middle of the room (normal-ish) with his bare hands (not so normal). So he's going after this meat (grossing me out already), using all of these different knives, and putting in on the scales. He wraps up the meat, hands it to the person ahead of me, and asks me what I want.
"Chicken. 3 Chicken breasts."
Great! So he wipes his hands on his shirt (gross), uses the sames knives that he used on the lamb on the chicken (oh yeah. that's what I like.), places the on the already REALLY bloody scale (yum), then places it on a equally bloody wood table (ugh! Salmonella), and wraps it up. It is then that I ask myself the question, "why aren't there any sinks in this room?" (nervous whimper)
"33 shekles."
OK. I hand him a 100 shekle paper note. He reaches into his pocket with his very bloody hands and pulls out a wad of cash and hands me my bloody change (appetizing!). I walk out and die a little while my friend says, "well, it COULD be worse!" Yes. But not by much.
Maybe you guys aren't as grossed out as I am every time I get meat there, but I GUARANTEE that if you were here, you would AT LEAST cringe...even the littlest bit!
Thursday, September 24, 2009
I don't know if I'm cut out for this...
I know, for my own safety and the safety of my co-workers, that I am not allowed to talk about anything political on my blog. That's been really hard as I've been writing this, but I have something I need to get off of my chest. I think I can manage to be pretty ambiguous, but we'll see.
I work all week and my weekends are designated for adventures and sightseeing. Stuff that everyone else gets to see while they visit, but that I don't get to see during the week because I'm working. I look forward to these weekends. They are my break from heavy stuff all week. Well, this weekend was up in the air, so I asked around the group that I go on adventures with to see what they wanted to do. One person sent a suggestion and it's just weighing on me a little.
There are MANY cities, towns, and Bedouins that have had their water completely cut off. Their crops die, their animals die, and they have 1/3 of the water that their neighbors (who legally shouldn't be there) have. I've been asked to join a group of people to go down with trucks and deliver some water.
This is a really cool opportunity. I realize this. I acknowledge this. But the other half of me just doesn't know if I can handle seeing this horrible stuff. I hear the most atrocious stories all week. My heart is heavy all of the time. I know that so many people (most of the people I'm in community with), get revved up when stuff like this comes along. They are ready to drop everything and run. Please don't get me wrong. I want to help! That's what I came here for. But I just don't know if I can handle very much more sadness and depression added on to the weight that I carry with me all week anyway. The injustice and unfairness is staggering. Most nights I either stare at a wall imagining that it MUST be made up or I cry.
I don't know what I'm going to do. I just needed to get that off of my chest.
I work all week and my weekends are designated for adventures and sightseeing. Stuff that everyone else gets to see while they visit, but that I don't get to see during the week because I'm working. I look forward to these weekends. They are my break from heavy stuff all week. Well, this weekend was up in the air, so I asked around the group that I go on adventures with to see what they wanted to do. One person sent a suggestion and it's just weighing on me a little.
There are MANY cities, towns, and Bedouins that have had their water completely cut off. Their crops die, their animals die, and they have 1/3 of the water that their neighbors (who legally shouldn't be there) have. I've been asked to join a group of people to go down with trucks and deliver some water.
This is a really cool opportunity. I realize this. I acknowledge this. But the other half of me just doesn't know if I can handle seeing this horrible stuff. I hear the most atrocious stories all week. My heart is heavy all of the time. I know that so many people (most of the people I'm in community with), get revved up when stuff like this comes along. They are ready to drop everything and run. Please don't get me wrong. I want to help! That's what I came here for. But I just don't know if I can handle very much more sadness and depression added on to the weight that I carry with me all week anyway. The injustice and unfairness is staggering. Most nights I either stare at a wall imagining that it MUST be made up or I cry.
I don't know what I'm going to do. I just needed to get that off of my chest.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Dear-oh-Dear
I had two experiences this past weekend with Arab men. One was funny (I thought) and the other...not so much.
Man 1:
I was on my way to the Western Wall for Rosh Hashanah with my friend Brit (Sidenote: for future reference, even if Rosh Hashanah lands on a Friday, it doesn't count. They don't celebrate on the Sabbath...so nothing happened when I was there. Much to my dismay). We get out of a friend's car and here's the conversation that happened:
Man with missing teeth and one sandal: Miz! Miz!
(I keep walking thinking he's trying to sell me something.)
Man: Miz! (runs in front of me) Miz! You wan' a VERY rich huzbin?! You marry me, you be VERY rich. Lots of monies.
It's anticlimactic, but this man cracked me up and I love that this happened.
Man 2:
This one isn't as funny. I'm actually still recuperating from this.
I spent all of last Saturday walking up and down the Mt. of Olives looking at Christian holy sites (like the Garden of Gesthemene and the Virgin Mary's tomb) with my friends Peter and Brit. Since it was the last day of Ramadan, but still Ramadan, there were NO restaurants open for us to eat in. So the three of us walked to the Old City to have lunch in the Jewish Quarter. After being ripped off at a restaurant, we decided that the fastest way back to the Mt. of Olives was through the Muslim Quarter.
The three of us started walking through, and as we got further in, it became more and more crowded. --In case you didn't know, after the month of Ramadan there is a HUMONGOUS celebration called Eid. It's like Christmas and Thanksgiving had a baby...and then that baby is on speed. With glitter.-- And we're back. Peter, Brit, and I are walking through these small, small streets in the Muslim Quarter, in the middle of the Old City, on the eve of the biggest holiday in the Muslim religion. People are everywhere. Buying things, talking, laughing, singing, etc. We turn onto this street, and from what seems like out of no where, and the crowds become so bad we can't move. We're all packed, hundreds of us, in this street. It was like being on the subway in New York or the El in Chicago, during rush hour. It was so claustrophobic and hot and uncomfortable.
On this particular day, I was wearing a flowey hippie looking shirt. It was still modest enough to wear in the area, but the collar was a little more loose in the front and back (I'm telling you this for a reason. Not just to tell you what I was wearing). All of a sudden, I feel something REALLY hot on my back, near my neck. My first thought it that someone had a plate of food or something that I was leaning on. Then I realized that what I was feeling was someone's face. More specifically a nose. Smelling my back and neck. There was a little man rubbing his face on my neck and smelling me.
Shock.
I try to get away, but there is NO WHERE to go. I'm stuck. So I lean forward as far as I can. For the 20 minutes that we were stuck in this alley, this man rubbed his face on my back and smelled me 3 times. Then when I finally saw an opening with Peter and Brit waving at me to come to them, I feel a hand grab my butt and go up.
I'm sorry to say that I froze. I know that if I were not in that situation I would think that I would yell at him or hit him or something, but I didn't. I froze. I just wanted to disappear. I felt so invaded, I couldn't even function for good hour after that.
I told this story to a couple of people here and everyone has said the same thing. If I weren't a Western woman, this wouldn't have happened. EVERYONE has said that there is no way in hell that this man would have done this to a Muslim woman. He would have been strung up if he would have done it to one of his own. Apparently, it is common for the pervs to just go after Western women instead. I know that there's a thought that women have no right in Muslim countries (which is right in some cases), but what most people don't know, is that women in Muslim societies are sacred. Completely and totally sacred. I take that back...MUSLIM women are sacred. Everyone else, including me, is someone to take out your pervy fantasies on.
*sigh* Another part of traveling I guess.
Man 1:
I was on my way to the Western Wall for Rosh Hashanah with my friend Brit (Sidenote: for future reference, even if Rosh Hashanah lands on a Friday, it doesn't count. They don't celebrate on the Sabbath...so nothing happened when I was there. Much to my dismay). We get out of a friend's car and here's the conversation that happened:
Man with missing teeth and one sandal: Miz! Miz!
(I keep walking thinking he's trying to sell me something.)
Man: Miz! (runs in front of me) Miz! You wan' a VERY rich huzbin?! You marry me, you be VERY rich. Lots of monies.
It's anticlimactic, but this man cracked me up and I love that this happened.
Man 2:
This one isn't as funny. I'm actually still recuperating from this.
I spent all of last Saturday walking up and down the Mt. of Olives looking at Christian holy sites (like the Garden of Gesthemene and the Virgin Mary's tomb) with my friends Peter and Brit. Since it was the last day of Ramadan, but still Ramadan, there were NO restaurants open for us to eat in. So the three of us walked to the Old City to have lunch in the Jewish Quarter. After being ripped off at a restaurant, we decided that the fastest way back to the Mt. of Olives was through the Muslim Quarter.
The three of us started walking through, and as we got further in, it became more and more crowded. --In case you didn't know, after the month of Ramadan there is a HUMONGOUS celebration called Eid. It's like Christmas and Thanksgiving had a baby...and then that baby is on speed. With glitter.-- And we're back. Peter, Brit, and I are walking through these small, small streets in the Muslim Quarter, in the middle of the Old City, on the eve of the biggest holiday in the Muslim religion. People are everywhere. Buying things, talking, laughing, singing, etc. We turn onto this street, and from what seems like out of no where, and the crowds become so bad we can't move. We're all packed, hundreds of us, in this street. It was like being on the subway in New York or the El in Chicago, during rush hour. It was so claustrophobic and hot and uncomfortable.
On this particular day, I was wearing a flowey hippie looking shirt. It was still modest enough to wear in the area, but the collar was a little more loose in the front and back (I'm telling you this for a reason. Not just to tell you what I was wearing). All of a sudden, I feel something REALLY hot on my back, near my neck. My first thought it that someone had a plate of food or something that I was leaning on. Then I realized that what I was feeling was someone's face. More specifically a nose. Smelling my back and neck. There was a little man rubbing his face on my neck and smelling me.
Shock.
I try to get away, but there is NO WHERE to go. I'm stuck. So I lean forward as far as I can. For the 20 minutes that we were stuck in this alley, this man rubbed his face on my back and smelled me 3 times. Then when I finally saw an opening with Peter and Brit waving at me to come to them, I feel a hand grab my butt and go up.
I'm sorry to say that I froze. I know that if I were not in that situation I would think that I would yell at him or hit him or something, but I didn't. I froze. I just wanted to disappear. I felt so invaded, I couldn't even function for good hour after that.
I told this story to a couple of people here and everyone has said the same thing. If I weren't a Western woman, this wouldn't have happened. EVERYONE has said that there is no way in hell that this man would have done this to a Muslim woman. He would have been strung up if he would have done it to one of his own. Apparently, it is common for the pervs to just go after Western women instead. I know that there's a thought that women have no right in Muslim countries (which is right in some cases), but what most people don't know, is that women in Muslim societies are sacred. Completely and totally sacred. I take that back...MUSLIM women are sacred. Everyone else, including me, is someone to take out your pervy fantasies on.
*sigh* Another part of traveling I guess.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Welling Up at the Wailing Wall
Interesting things are happening to me during my stay here. You hear about people getting overwhelmed by being in the Holy Land or getting caught up in everything, but I never thought that that would be me. I'm German. I'm Lutheran. I don't have emotions. This has happened to me twice in two days now and I thought you guys would like to hear about it.
1. Tonight at the Western Wall:
I went with some friends tonight to celebrate Rosh Hashanah at the Western Wall. My friend Brit and I kept our distance, but pretty soon we wanted to go into the women's section. So we went. I found myself slowly drifting toward the Wall. I had no intention of getting near it b/c I didn't want to interrupt any of the praying that was going on with all of the Jewish women. However, within about 5 minutes of entering the women's section, there I was...my forehead and palms laying on the wall. I just began to cry. The idea of this being a part of the temple or existing during that time, paired with the overwhelming thought of centuries of Jews praying and lamenting the loss of their temple got to me. I lost it. Hearing the Psalms in Hebrew and thinking about all of these things completely overwhelmed me!
2. Yesterday at the Church of the Nativity:
OK. I'm with you on this. Was this REALLY the place where Jesus was born? Probably not. Even as I was walking into the Church of the Nativity, I could feel my eyes rolling watching all of these women, with their heads covered, crying as they entered the church. I passed by a sign that said, "The Church of the Nativity. The first evidence of a cave here being venerated as Christ's birthplace is in the writings of St. Justin Martyr around AD 160. In 326, the Roman emperor Constantine ordered a church be built and in about 530 it was rebuilt by Justinian."
"Huh." I thought. "Even if this isn't the REAL birthplace of Jesus, that's really impressive. That's 2,000 years of people coming to this specific place and praying." As you're walking through, you begin to be taken over. That incense smell that is old and stale and yet the most beautiful smell in the world. The Chanting. The architecture and beautiful paintings and mosaics that have been around for thousands of years.
Then I followed the hundreds of people into the smallest hole imaginable. Sweating and cramped I finally saw it. A little silver star in a marble floor. The woman ahead of me begins to weep and pray. Touching and kissing the floor and tapestries all around the Grotto. Then it's my turn. I just thought it would be cool to touch it. For 2 thousand years people have touched this place and now it's my turn. So I touch it...and cry. I'm completely overwhelmed by the whole experience.
Who knows if this will keep happening, but so far I seem uncontrollable. I wonder what will happen next.
1. Tonight at the Western Wall:
I went with some friends tonight to celebrate Rosh Hashanah at the Western Wall. My friend Brit and I kept our distance, but pretty soon we wanted to go into the women's section. So we went. I found myself slowly drifting toward the Wall. I had no intention of getting near it b/c I didn't want to interrupt any of the praying that was going on with all of the Jewish women. However, within about 5 minutes of entering the women's section, there I was...my forehead and palms laying on the wall. I just began to cry. The idea of this being a part of the temple or existing during that time, paired with the overwhelming thought of centuries of Jews praying and lamenting the loss of their temple got to me. I lost it. Hearing the Psalms in Hebrew and thinking about all of these things completely overwhelmed me!
2. Yesterday at the Church of the Nativity:
OK. I'm with you on this. Was this REALLY the place where Jesus was born? Probably not. Even as I was walking into the Church of the Nativity, I could feel my eyes rolling watching all of these women, with their heads covered, crying as they entered the church. I passed by a sign that said, "The Church of the Nativity. The first evidence of a cave here being venerated as Christ's birthplace is in the writings of St. Justin Martyr around AD 160. In 326, the Roman emperor Constantine ordered a church be built and in about 530 it was rebuilt by Justinian."
"Huh." I thought. "Even if this isn't the REAL birthplace of Jesus, that's really impressive. That's 2,000 years of people coming to this specific place and praying." As you're walking through, you begin to be taken over. That incense smell that is old and stale and yet the most beautiful smell in the world. The Chanting. The architecture and beautiful paintings and mosaics that have been around for thousands of years.
Then I followed the hundreds of people into the smallest hole imaginable. Sweating and cramped I finally saw it. A little silver star in a marble floor. The woman ahead of me begins to weep and pray. Touching and kissing the floor and tapestries all around the Grotto. Then it's my turn. I just thought it would be cool to touch it. For 2 thousand years people have touched this place and now it's my turn. So I touch it...and cry. I'm completely overwhelmed by the whole experience.
Who knows if this will keep happening, but so far I seem uncontrollable. I wonder what will happen next.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
The Rollercoaster
I was warned that this would happen. Right off of the plane, I was told, "You're going to have good days and bad days. Some days you will genuinely think peace can happen. Some days you will swear it never will."
I consider myself a pretty optimistic person. Especially when it comes to people. For me, everyone is a good person. Deep down, people are usually genuine, lovely people. Of course I'm excluding sociopaths and dictators, but even with people like the child soldiers in Africa...their bad behaviors are reactions to other horrible things. They're very loving people deep down.
After my visit to Hebron this weekend, I'm finding it very difficult to believe in humanity and the goodness of people. I'm not allowed to say anything political online due to my safety and the safety of my co-workers, but the stories I am hearing over here genuinely break my heart. I CANNOT wrap my head around how people can possibly excuse what they do to other human beings. What makes it worse, it that a lot of these things are all in the name of God. I sit and wonder how disgusted and ashamed God must be all of His people. I am not naive to the fact that what is happening here, happens all over the world. And, in some cases, it is much worse in other parts of the world. I don't know what my justification has been up to this point, but there have just been times this weekend where I've just wanted to give up, pack up, go home, and check out...forever. What's the point of even trying?
Who knows...maybe next week I will have a complete change of heart. From what I've heard, I will. And then the next week, I'll change again. For right now, however, I'm just so sad.
I consider myself a pretty optimistic person. Especially when it comes to people. For me, everyone is a good person. Deep down, people are usually genuine, lovely people. Of course I'm excluding sociopaths and dictators, but even with people like the child soldiers in Africa...their bad behaviors are reactions to other horrible things. They're very loving people deep down.
After my visit to Hebron this weekend, I'm finding it very difficult to believe in humanity and the goodness of people. I'm not allowed to say anything political online due to my safety and the safety of my co-workers, but the stories I am hearing over here genuinely break my heart. I CANNOT wrap my head around how people can possibly excuse what they do to other human beings. What makes it worse, it that a lot of these things are all in the name of God. I sit and wonder how disgusted and ashamed God must be all of His people. I am not naive to the fact that what is happening here, happens all over the world. And, in some cases, it is much worse in other parts of the world. I don't know what my justification has been up to this point, but there have just been times this weekend where I've just wanted to give up, pack up, go home, and check out...forever. What's the point of even trying?
Who knows...maybe next week I will have a complete change of heart. From what I've heard, I will. And then the next week, I'll change again. For right now, however, I'm just so sad.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Welcome to the International Community!
On Saturday, I was invited to go to an iftar (a breaking of the fast during Ramadan) with a friend. I was totally psyched and was ready to eat with gusto. I entered the room and the table was covered in amazing food...most of which I wouldn't have eaten at home b/c they all had red meat. However, I swore before I left that I wouldn't say no to anything so that I could really live this trip to its fullest. Big mistake. In case some of you may not know, people who don't eat red meat, can't digest red meat. Add that to the fact that most travelers can't handle real, regional food in their first week. Double hit.
Within 20 minutes after finished this amazing meal (which it was...it was really delicious!), I felt a rumble in my stomach that only meant one thing....diarrhea. No biggie. Not my first time. So I just went home and talked to my parents. IMMEDIATELY after I got of g-chat with them, the Apocalypse rained on me. The Left Behind people need not search any further, the end of the world was in my room. Not only did I explode in the familiar way that most travelers experience, but I began to get the chills. Now, when I say the chills, I don't mean, "burr. It's chilly in here." I was convulsing I was shaking so hard. Nothing could warm me up. Eventually, I feel asleep, only to wake up 3 hours later sweating (like I have never before in my life) and feeling like I had an elephant weighing me down. I tried to walk to the bathroom (to-once again-explode) and I couldn't walk. I had to crawl to the toilet. Have I mentioned that you can't flush toilet paper here? That's usually fine, but not when you have the black plague it gets nasty and smelly quickly.
I didn't sleep the rest of the night and the next morning was no better. All of Sunday, I was too weak to walk, yet I had to-for obvious reasons-, my skin hurt, I would have more attacks of convulsing chills followed by the most disgusting sweats. I grossed myself out. I thought I was doing relatively OK until friends came over like Mother Theresa with water and crackers. They're first comment walking in to the door was, "Man! It's really hot out today!" Then they saw me. I was wrapped in blankets and North Face fleece jackets. My response being, "Really? I'm freezing! Maybe it's where my room is." Not so much. Apparently, to top everything off I had a ridiculous fever. It was like having a fantasy football team of symptoms.
Here's what I expected: sympathy. Here's what I got: laughter. OK, granted I did get a lot of sympathy, but once I was in the clear for not dying I got...(chuckle)"Ah yes! Welcome to the international community!" These people said it like it was a funny initiation that they forgot about. Like blood in, blood out with gangs.
However, everyone was right. Once this happens to you, people who have traveled all over the world begin telling you the horrible thing that happened to them at this place or that place. And they DO become funny...with time. I think my mom is still pissed about hers from the 70's, but maybe next decade. I feel like I now have a really gross, yet cool membership card. I got my blood in...now I hope I never have to get initiated again. UGH!!!
Within 20 minutes after finished this amazing meal (which it was...it was really delicious!), I felt a rumble in my stomach that only meant one thing....diarrhea. No biggie. Not my first time. So I just went home and talked to my parents. IMMEDIATELY after I got of g-chat with them, the Apocalypse rained on me. The Left Behind people need not search any further, the end of the world was in my room. Not only did I explode in the familiar way that most travelers experience, but I began to get the chills. Now, when I say the chills, I don't mean, "burr. It's chilly in here." I was convulsing I was shaking so hard. Nothing could warm me up. Eventually, I feel asleep, only to wake up 3 hours later sweating (like I have never before in my life) and feeling like I had an elephant weighing me down. I tried to walk to the bathroom (to-once again-explode) and I couldn't walk. I had to crawl to the toilet. Have I mentioned that you can't flush toilet paper here? That's usually fine, but not when you have the black plague it gets nasty and smelly quickly.
I didn't sleep the rest of the night and the next morning was no better. All of Sunday, I was too weak to walk, yet I had to-for obvious reasons-, my skin hurt, I would have more attacks of convulsing chills followed by the most disgusting sweats. I grossed myself out. I thought I was doing relatively OK until friends came over like Mother Theresa with water and crackers. They're first comment walking in to the door was, "Man! It's really hot out today!" Then they saw me. I was wrapped in blankets and North Face fleece jackets. My response being, "Really? I'm freezing! Maybe it's where my room is." Not so much. Apparently, to top everything off I had a ridiculous fever. It was like having a fantasy football team of symptoms.
Here's what I expected: sympathy. Here's what I got: laughter. OK, granted I did get a lot of sympathy, but once I was in the clear for not dying I got...(chuckle)"Ah yes! Welcome to the international community!" These people said it like it was a funny initiation that they forgot about. Like blood in, blood out with gangs.
However, everyone was right. Once this happens to you, people who have traveled all over the world begin telling you the horrible thing that happened to them at this place or that place. And they DO become funny...with time. I think my mom is still pissed about hers from the 70's, but maybe next decade. I feel like I now have a really gross, yet cool membership card. I got my blood in...now I hope I never have to get initiated again. UGH!!!
Friday, September 4, 2009
Ramadan
It's been really interesting living in Jerusalem during the holy month of Ramadan. This isn't my first exposure to it, but it is on such a LARGE scale.
For example, about 85% of the hospital's staff and patients are Muslim, so we're really not supposed to eat-at all-during the day as a sign of respect. I completely understand this and when I was told this, I nodded and said, "Well, of course!" I didn't know what that meant though and how that affected daily life.
I, and the rest of the staff, get a majority of our meals from the hospital cafeteria. However, the cafeteria isn't actually open during the day, during Ramadan. So, my friend and I have to go down to the kitchen, ask them for some food, and then walk up to a side room to eat with the other non-Muslims in an unlit room. I am more than happy to do this and I know it doesn't seem like a big deal, but it's amazing how differently your life changes when you have to eat and drink in private or away from anyone's eyes. This is also a feat for me during dinner. As most of you know, 6:00 is usually the latest I can eat before my head starts going in circles and pea soup shoots out of my mouth. But in Jerusalem, most non-Muslim people eat dinner at 7...at the EARLIEST! This is not a big deal for anyone else, but it is for the senior citizen in me.
The other interesting thing about Ramadan, which is completely obvious, is how it affects EVERYONE'S mood. When you live in a city that is predominately Muslim, once the day gets closer to the night, people's tempers flair, guards are going cross-eyed and look exhausted, etc. Last night Brittany, Suzanna, and I went to the American Colony Hotel (which is this amazing 5 star hotel where all of these famous people have stayed...including Chuck Norris...) for a book sale. We took a cab at about 6:30 pm and the guy went nuts! He was going 90mph through rush-hour traffic! He, and everyone else on the road, just wanted to get home so that they could eat.
Sidenote: On the way down the mountain Suzanna noticed clouds of smoke coming from around the area. Apparently, all of these people were burning their garbage as a protest to a protest. The city workers are on strike, so the garbage (as well as a lot of other things) hasn't been picked up in a long time. People have gotten so sick of it collecting and have gotten so sick of the smell, that now they're just burning it in their front yards. The smell is unbelievable!
OK, I realize this isn't that exciting of a post, but it has been something that I've had to deal with every day that I didn't expect. I'm off to catch a bus to Bethlehem for dinner. Apparently, I need to be prepared to be stopped...A LOT!
For example, about 85% of the hospital's staff and patients are Muslim, so we're really not supposed to eat-at all-during the day as a sign of respect. I completely understand this and when I was told this, I nodded and said, "Well, of course!" I didn't know what that meant though and how that affected daily life.
I, and the rest of the staff, get a majority of our meals from the hospital cafeteria. However, the cafeteria isn't actually open during the day, during Ramadan. So, my friend and I have to go down to the kitchen, ask them for some food, and then walk up to a side room to eat with the other non-Muslims in an unlit room. I am more than happy to do this and I know it doesn't seem like a big deal, but it's amazing how differently your life changes when you have to eat and drink in private or away from anyone's eyes. This is also a feat for me during dinner. As most of you know, 6:00 is usually the latest I can eat before my head starts going in circles and pea soup shoots out of my mouth. But in Jerusalem, most non-Muslim people eat dinner at 7...at the EARLIEST! This is not a big deal for anyone else, but it is for the senior citizen in me.
The other interesting thing about Ramadan, which is completely obvious, is how it affects EVERYONE'S mood. When you live in a city that is predominately Muslim, once the day gets closer to the night, people's tempers flair, guards are going cross-eyed and look exhausted, etc. Last night Brittany, Suzanna, and I went to the American Colony Hotel (which is this amazing 5 star hotel where all of these famous people have stayed...including Chuck Norris...) for a book sale. We took a cab at about 6:30 pm and the guy went nuts! He was going 90mph through rush-hour traffic! He, and everyone else on the road, just wanted to get home so that they could eat.
Sidenote: On the way down the mountain Suzanna noticed clouds of smoke coming from around the area. Apparently, all of these people were burning their garbage as a protest to a protest. The city workers are on strike, so the garbage (as well as a lot of other things) hasn't been picked up in a long time. People have gotten so sick of it collecting and have gotten so sick of the smell, that now they're just burning it in their front yards. The smell is unbelievable!
OK, I realize this isn't that exciting of a post, but it has been something that I've had to deal with every day that I didn't expect. I'm off to catch a bus to Bethlehem for dinner. Apparently, I need to be prepared to be stopped...A LOT!
Thursday, September 3, 2009
My First Day!
Hello everyone (e.g. mom and dad)!!
I have just finished my first full, complete day in Jerusalem and I am exhausted! However, I thought you might want to hear about everything leading up to this point.
FLIGHT:
I had a lot of drama in the beginning, but it all ended up OK. In Minneapolis, I was told to go to the NW site multiple times by multiple people (I had an odd symbol and I didn't know what airline it was). When I finally got to the front of the line, I was told by the machine and the man behind the counter that I didn't exist in the system and that I might have to buy a whole new ticket! It took about an hour for him (and his supervisor) to realize that the symbol was United and not Northwest. I had to sprint to the plane (which I almost missed), but I made it.
While in Chicago, I got to spend a little less that an hour with my two best friends, Gil and Emily, having lunch. Unfortunately, I was so paranoid about my flight, I probably wasn't as much fun as I usually am. In fact, I was nauseous and thought I had to throw up the whole time. When I finally made it back to O'Hare, during the security check, my tickets fell. I wanted to go back and get them, but the guards wouldn't let me. So, I had to run (again) to the Lufthansa ticket booth to beg them for another ticket and convince them I wasn't a fraud.
However, once I was on the plane, I was delighted to be surrounded by 15, matching vest wearing members of the "Friendship Force of Wisconsin". They made the trip a hilarious delight, providing commentary on everything especially when a verbal fight broke out between a stewardess and the woman sitting in front on me. I will miss them.
When I arrived in Frankfurt (about midnight our time, 5 am their time), I had to wait in this long line outside of ANOTHER (I think by this point it was 3 or 4) security check point for it to open. During that time a fight (verbal, not physical) broke out between a Palestinian and an American Jew. To my amazement, no one but me seemed phased. No one even tried to brake it up. After about 30 minutes, they retreated to their own corners, but it was a great way to start my morning!
After an extremely thorough check (I can't even begin to describe how uncomfortable I was), I got to sit for two hours waiting to bored the plane. About 40 minutes before we boarded, out of nowhere, 3 men literally popped up, strapped on their Tefillin and prayer shawls, and began to pray. Right in the middle of the terminal! It was at this point that it really hit me. I looked around and almost all of the men were either wearing traditional, orthodox clothing or their yarmulke and the women were all completely covered (except for one German girl who insisted on wearing high heels, a low-cut top, and a mini-skirt...I think she's in for quite a shock when she gets here).
With some of you, I have been bragging about the pillow that I bought out of skymall. You know, the one that you put on the tray and just put your head down?? Well...I never used it. Sorry mom! I REALLY wanted to and I was exhausted, but to be honest, I was sitting next to a really cute boy (that plane was chock full of 'em!) and I didn't want to look stupid, blowing up a pillow in the middle of the plane. I'll just have to find out on my way back.
HOLY LAND:
So, I arrived in Tel Aviv! Yay! I got hassled a little bit by the woman at the window (something I was told to expect), but she let me through. I congratulated myself on not getting arrested.
After a lovely meal at the Brown's home (my supervisor and his wife), where I got to hear and see the canon (yes, that kind of canon) shot to tell the Muslims in the city that the sun has officially set and they can eat. I feel so incredibly lucky that I get to live in the Holy Land during Ramadan, Yum Kippur, and Rosh Hashanah! After dinner, I slept like I have never slept before...
That is until 3:30 am.
That would be when I began to hear drumming. I thought someone was at my door, then I thought I was imagining things, but I wasn't. The drum is to tell all of the Muslims in the city (yes, it is that loud) that it is time to eat before sunrise. Then, from about 4:30 am-8:00 am was chanting and calls to prayer. To be honest, I actually think that the call to prayer is amazingly beautiful and, so far, it's my favorite thing about Jerusalem. I've heard it now about 6 times since I landed yesterday and I think it's breathtakingly beautiful. My favorite time to hear it is during the sunset.
WORK:
I worked all day today (a feat since I was basically sleeping while I was standing AND in some pretty hot weather which makes you tired all on its own) and I am really excited for some of the things that I will be doing. One of my major projects I can't really talk about until later, but I'll make sure to tell anyone who's interested about it when I get back. Mark also said that I would be spending a lot of time with the kids that are on dialysis at the hospital. These children have to wake up at 3am, every other day, so that they can get through the checkpoints in enough time to get here by 11 am (I've been told it really does take that long). They then spend 4 hours going through treatment. So, the hospital wants to put a little focus on them so that their stay is a little more welcoming. I may do some theater stuff, but I will also be playing with them, helping them with their homework, helping them with their English, and MAYBE putting on a play where they are the players.
I've also told a lot of you that I will be helping the LWF with their big fundraising event of picking the olives from the olive tree and making it into olive oil. I used this as a foray into my own interests of how they fundraise and where their funds come from, but I think I may have blind-sided them. I also think no one has really shown any interest in their development structure, so I didn't get as much info as I was hoping. Have no fear though! I have now read 6 of their annual reports (starting in 1968 and including this years). Now I have 1972-2007 to read! Once I gain a little more trust, I'm going to go after them with MUCH more development questions.
OTHER STUFF:
Tonight was the weekly (every Wednesday) volleyball/potluck dinner at the Brown's home. It was fun and I made nice with a Swede and a Fin, but my shyness got the best of me. I'm working on it though.
I'm really excited to go to the Old City and around the area to see all of the holy sites! I want this to happen as soon as possible! I also want to celebrate an iftar in the community. Around here, especially toward the end of Ramadan, people stay out all night, talking at cafes, shopping, getting their hair cut, honking their horns outside my window, etc. Because they can't eat or drink all day, they party at night. I can't wait to be a part of that!
OK. I've written WAY too much. Thanks for reading!
I have just finished my first full, complete day in Jerusalem and I am exhausted! However, I thought you might want to hear about everything leading up to this point.
FLIGHT:
I had a lot of drama in the beginning, but it all ended up OK. In Minneapolis, I was told to go to the NW site multiple times by multiple people (I had an odd symbol and I didn't know what airline it was). When I finally got to the front of the line, I was told by the machine and the man behind the counter that I didn't exist in the system and that I might have to buy a whole new ticket! It took about an hour for him (and his supervisor) to realize that the symbol was United and not Northwest. I had to sprint to the plane (which I almost missed), but I made it.
While in Chicago, I got to spend a little less that an hour with my two best friends, Gil and Emily, having lunch. Unfortunately, I was so paranoid about my flight, I probably wasn't as much fun as I usually am. In fact, I was nauseous and thought I had to throw up the whole time. When I finally made it back to O'Hare, during the security check, my tickets fell. I wanted to go back and get them, but the guards wouldn't let me. So, I had to run (again) to the Lufthansa ticket booth to beg them for another ticket and convince them I wasn't a fraud.
However, once I was on the plane, I was delighted to be surrounded by 15, matching vest wearing members of the "Friendship Force of Wisconsin". They made the trip a hilarious delight, providing commentary on everything especially when a verbal fight broke out between a stewardess and the woman sitting in front on me. I will miss them.
When I arrived in Frankfurt (about midnight our time, 5 am their time), I had to wait in this long line outside of ANOTHER (I think by this point it was 3 or 4) security check point for it to open. During that time a fight (verbal, not physical) broke out between a Palestinian and an American Jew. To my amazement, no one but me seemed phased. No one even tried to brake it up. After about 30 minutes, they retreated to their own corners, but it was a great way to start my morning!
After an extremely thorough check (I can't even begin to describe how uncomfortable I was), I got to sit for two hours waiting to bored the plane. About 40 minutes before we boarded, out of nowhere, 3 men literally popped up, strapped on their Tefillin and prayer shawls, and began to pray. Right in the middle of the terminal! It was at this point that it really hit me. I looked around and almost all of the men were either wearing traditional, orthodox clothing or their yarmulke and the women were all completely covered (except for one German girl who insisted on wearing high heels, a low-cut top, and a mini-skirt...I think she's in for quite a shock when she gets here).
With some of you, I have been bragging about the pillow that I bought out of skymall. You know, the one that you put on the tray and just put your head down?? Well...I never used it. Sorry mom! I REALLY wanted to and I was exhausted, but to be honest, I was sitting next to a really cute boy (that plane was chock full of 'em!) and I didn't want to look stupid, blowing up a pillow in the middle of the plane. I'll just have to find out on my way back.
HOLY LAND:
So, I arrived in Tel Aviv! Yay! I got hassled a little bit by the woman at the window (something I was told to expect), but she let me through. I congratulated myself on not getting arrested.
After a lovely meal at the Brown's home (my supervisor and his wife), where I got to hear and see the canon (yes, that kind of canon) shot to tell the Muslims in the city that the sun has officially set and they can eat. I feel so incredibly lucky that I get to live in the Holy Land during Ramadan, Yum Kippur, and Rosh Hashanah! After dinner, I slept like I have never slept before...
That is until 3:30 am.
That would be when I began to hear drumming. I thought someone was at my door, then I thought I was imagining things, but I wasn't. The drum is to tell all of the Muslims in the city (yes, it is that loud) that it is time to eat before sunrise. Then, from about 4:30 am-8:00 am was chanting and calls to prayer. To be honest, I actually think that the call to prayer is amazingly beautiful and, so far, it's my favorite thing about Jerusalem. I've heard it now about 6 times since I landed yesterday and I think it's breathtakingly beautiful. My favorite time to hear it is during the sunset.
WORK:
I worked all day today (a feat since I was basically sleeping while I was standing AND in some pretty hot weather which makes you tired all on its own) and I am really excited for some of the things that I will be doing. One of my major projects I can't really talk about until later, but I'll make sure to tell anyone who's interested about it when I get back. Mark also said that I would be spending a lot of time with the kids that are on dialysis at the hospital. These children have to wake up at 3am, every other day, so that they can get through the checkpoints in enough time to get here by 11 am (I've been told it really does take that long). They then spend 4 hours going through treatment. So, the hospital wants to put a little focus on them so that their stay is a little more welcoming. I may do some theater stuff, but I will also be playing with them, helping them with their homework, helping them with their English, and MAYBE putting on a play where they are the players.
I've also told a lot of you that I will be helping the LWF with their big fundraising event of picking the olives from the olive tree and making it into olive oil. I used this as a foray into my own interests of how they fundraise and where their funds come from, but I think I may have blind-sided them. I also think no one has really shown any interest in their development structure, so I didn't get as much info as I was hoping. Have no fear though! I have now read 6 of their annual reports (starting in 1968 and including this years). Now I have 1972-2007 to read! Once I gain a little more trust, I'm going to go after them with MUCH more development questions.
OTHER STUFF:
Tonight was the weekly (every Wednesday) volleyball/potluck dinner at the Brown's home. It was fun and I made nice with a Swede and a Fin, but my shyness got the best of me. I'm working on it though.
I'm really excited to go to the Old City and around the area to see all of the holy sites! I want this to happen as soon as possible! I also want to celebrate an iftar in the community. Around here, especially toward the end of Ramadan, people stay out all night, talking at cafes, shopping, getting their hair cut, honking their horns outside my window, etc. Because they can't eat or drink all day, they party at night. I can't wait to be a part of that!
OK. I've written WAY too much. Thanks for reading!
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