Pain

This week was a tough one. Barta'a on Monday. Givat Haviva on Wednesday.

On Sunday night, following a weekend of extreme violence in Gaza where over 100 people were killed (Israel claimed most were armed men, the Palestinians claim most were civilians: women and children, the truth is always somewhere in the middle) Israel radio issued a warning to Israeli citizens not to travel to Palestinian towns and villages.

We never considered not going to Barta'a. The warning, meant to deter Israelis from entering the West Bank for fear of revenge attacks or kidnapping was effective. A friend who was going to join us for the first time, opted out. While one might be taking a risk traveling to some places, I believe that instilling fear in people is also an objective. Because fear acts as the fuel for hatred and ignorance, keeping people entrenched in their view of the other, justifying the violent path for solving the conflict (on both sides).

In Barta'a, what I saw and felt was pain and grief. everyone was feeling it. The atmosphere reminded me of what goes on in Israel after a terrorist attack with many casualties. There is a collective display of grief, people are subdued, almost depressed and the one topic of conversation is the futility of loss of innocent lives. But the myths go on. Many people in both communities can't see the other as one sharing the same human traits; as one who mourns their dead in the same way; who feels pain in the same way.

On Wednesday I had lunch with my Arabic teacher, Majid. He seemed unusually sad and I asked him what was wrong. He told me about his impossible predicament: "I am a loyal citizen of this country, Israel, but I am also an Arab. A Palestinian. When Palestinians are killed in Gaza I want to protest, to display my sympathy towards the families of the dead but it's difficult. I will be considered a traitor by my Jewish Israeli friends if I do. If I don't, I am considered a traitor by my Palestinian friends." Then he went on to tell me a story: "There are twins. In 1948 (after the war, with the establishment of Israel) one twin is adopted and becomes the step child (Israeli Arabs), enjoying some rights and security but not quite the same as the natural child (Israeli Jews). The other twin (Palestinians) is forgotten, going into foster care. Now the twins want to reestablish a relationship, they are identical twins and always felt close but the relationship is complex. Issues of loyalties and sibling rivalries are at the core..."