This weekend was literally a whirlwind of traveling and cultural immersion. Two graduate students at my campus are leaving Sede Boker for the hustle and bustle of North America (Toronto and Boston), and decided to invite me on their last trip to Haifa, where one of the students, Manar, has a home and extensive family all throughout the area.
First, let me say that the hospitality of this Palestinian-Israeli family was incredible (almost overwhelming!). We arrived around dinnertime, and I learned that Manar’s mother had spent five hours that morning preparing an elaborate meal for us guests! The food mostly consisted of beef, rice, chicken and tomato combinations, and was very delicious. It was also seemingly endless, and we were vigorously “encouraged” to eat so much that by the time it was over, I felt like I would be full for weeks.
View from the house's balcony of a street in Haifa.
The major surprise I received upon arrival was noticing how out of my depth I was when it came to speaking Arabic. Having taken a year of literature and having acquired a modest background in Modern Standard, I felt that I would be at least somewhat prepared to have dinner with an Arab family. Wrong. I was able to understand virtually nothing of the dinner table conversation (luckily Manar was happy to translate)! The main reason for this is explained by the order in which Arab students learn language in Israeli schools: spoken Arabic, Hebrew, written Arabic (Modern Standard) and finally English). So, it turned out the difficulty I had trying to churn out the correct MSA grammar was the same as what the family experienced trying to remember/translate what I was saying into the more normal syntax. My first impression of Levantine Arabic is that it is very informal, as they seem to do away with many of the annoying grammatical constructs of MSA. I picked up many words and phrases in just 24 hours, so if for no other reason, the trip was worth it just for improving my Arabic!
Manar gave us an extensive walking tour of her city (mostly at night, however). Haifa is right on the Mediterranean, so there is a modest amount of humidity. However, it is built around a small mountain, so as we weaved our way up it got noticeably cooler (and quieter)!
Haifa is a fascinating cultural melting pot, whose boundaries are surprisingly well-delineated. That is, the various ethnic towns are sharply defined by street boundaries and announced by abrupt changes in language as well. From Arabs to Russians to Pakistanis (throwing in some Urdu) to Indonesians, pretty much everyone is represented in the city. I was also intrigued to hear of a secret religious society called the Druze, where only members 40 years old or older are permitted to join and then promptly sworn to secrecy. Because of this, no one really knows who they are or what they stand for — only that they have a stake in Haifa too!
It was also nice to notice the how covered with solar panels the rooftops of Haifa are. This is because by Israeli law, every new building must have its water heated by a solar water heater!
As cool as the city was, we had to turn in somewhat early to get up for the bus the next day. Unfortunately, due to the heat and some pretty aggressive mosquitoes, I didn’t get a single second of shut-eye that night. However, I was still excited to head out for Nablus the next day, as it would be my first time in the West Bank.
The Palestinian territories are divided up into Areas A B and C, although the boundaries are ill-defined. Basically, the letters mean that if you have an Israeli passport, you are not allowed to visit anything under Area A. Of course, people have been known to sneak in, or just use their American/other passport if they have dual citizenship. Anyone can take the bus into the West Bank like we did, but if you get caught trying to exit the military checkpoint with an Israeli passport, it’s a good bet you’re going to jail (or at least not getting back across!).
Nablus is a fairly large city compared to the rest of the territories (for a map of the WB, see http://news.bbc.co.uk/hi/english/static/in_depth/world/2001/israel_and_palestinians/key_maps/).
We spent much time wandering through the markets, which were crowded but full of enthusiastic vendors and a fascinating selection of exotic foods (for example, sweetened pumpkin!). While I was traveling with a large group including several Arabs, it still felt like a reasonably safe place to be.
My hostess Manar (right) and her mother.
We grabbed a lunch of falafel and hummus (what else?). I had to be careful to avoid using Hebrew for basic things, just to not offend any Arabs. The sense of Arab pride around the city was almost tangible. Even back in the Arab parts of Haifa, it was common to see graffiti that said things like “Every lemon tree is OUR lemon tree.” While there were no openly armed citizens in Nablus, it was sad to see the large number of “martyr” posters:
A typical assortment of posters. What's really sad is that some of the featured faces actually belonged to children.
As I learned more about the history of the territories and the people, the only thing that became clearer was how complex the current conflict truly is. The Arabs were oftentimes severely repressed after the creation of Israel in 1948. Even now, despite official IDF policy it is not uncommon to hear of military brutality. When the military consists largely of drafted 18-21 year olds getting excited in their first deployment, perhaps this is not so surprising. Of course, my visit is at a relatively stable time period, in contrast to just a few years ago when Israelis near the settlements lived in constant fear of suicide bombings. So clearly, both sides have a history of unjust treatment — but you have to talk to people from both backgrounds AND know at least a little history yourself to really understand this!
While the remnants of the second intifada in the 90s and the evident “martyr” culture were certainly still visible, the citizens of Nablus (Palestinian-Israeli, Ethiopian, etc.) were just going about their daily lives like anyone else. The graffiti and poetry scrawled on walls was not as inflammatory as one might have expected, although it is true that urging Palestinians to “resist” can easily lead to outright violence.
Some argue that Israel’s bureaucratic system remains stacked against Arabs, so that it can often take years just to get permission to build a house, for example. If so, this has likely contributed to the rise of the numerous Bedouin communities in the south that live without electricity and taxes — the same ones my bus back home to Sede Boker drives by! These settlements are themselves an issue unto themselves that some students on campus are studying — the role of women in these tribal cultures (numbering around 25 or so throughout the whole country) is especially important, given that the horrific and primitive practice of honor killing is still common (thanks in part to shari’a law).
In any case, it was a relief to see that visiting a political hotspot like the West Bank doesn’t mean dodging violent demonstrations or enduring rampant anti-Semitism. After bidding a fond goodbye to my new Arab family, we took a couple hours’ worth of buses to finally make it back to the Negev. It was a truly eye-opening and enriching experience, especially because of my “insider” connection. I look forward to my next adventure!
