Reflections on the View

For several days now I have been attempting to assimilate into a hostile world. Hostile not in the sense of day to day relations, which in fact are charming, open and hospitable, but hostile in the sentiment it imbibes. I will never be able to articulate completely the feelings that are generated when standing below a 15' concrete barrier, looking down upon military-controlled roads lined with electric fences and snaking atop the barren landscape, seeing once-functional buildings, barraged by shelling, slowly deteriorate into rubble, and trying to fathom that all the while I have my feet planted in the Holy Land.

I have travelled along bypass roads here, zooming by Israeli settlements and checkpoints on roads so steep and windy that a rally car racer would teem with adrenaline upon sight of them. The landscape, an arid and dusty series of rolling hills, is actually full of life. In spite of the hardships and daily challenges that face Palestinian residents in the West Bank, they do seem to get by. Though it must take a tremendous amount of resilience, the source of which has to be something quite profound, to wake up each morning with hope, still watching with the naked eye as California-like settlements sprout up on the bluffs ahead, a man-made oasis replete with tennis courts and swimming pools.

The water here is an important topic. I have two colleagues that work on the water issue - gathering data, writing papers, doing extensive homework, and then facts are generated and callibrated - and the reality is not uplifting. The reality is that the water issues here are a prime source of the continuation of the conflict. Water flows downward, and in the case of Israel and Palestine, much of the water flows from the West Bank acquifers into Israel Proper. Under international law, states that are recipients of water in this way are required to share it, but in this case it is gathered, distributed to the areas deemed most needy, and the leftovers are sold back to the Palestinians. The continued violations are self-evident, albeit more complex.

It is not my intention here to enter into a diatribe on injustice. I admit that my understanding at this point is not a balanced one, but I also admit that this 'side' has no real voice where I am from and as these are the lessons that are before me now I feel compelled to express them.

As a conflict worker I am deeply interested in the spectrum of transformation methods (e.g. violence - nonviolence) for addressing conflict. I asked a friend today about the application of nonviolence in this context now (knowing that it has been used extensively and strategically in the past), and the remarks centered around the overwhelming reality that 'hope' in the broader community in Palestine might as well be a foreclosed option for the future. To get his point across more concretely we stopped a teenager on the street to ask him the same question. To paraphrase, "Of course I believe in peace, it is in my heart, but how can we have hope under this occupation?" We were mere meters from the wall. We thanked him and waved goodbye, and his face lit up with a smile.

Within my own self hope does spring eternal, but how can I or anyone ever know how deep that river of hope flows, ever truly empathize with the reality faced here? One of my hopes is to come closer to understanding this elusive labyrinth of emotion and will.

Tomorrow I enter into Ramallah for a cultural event with the dance troupe, the next day into Jerusalem, and the journey ambles forward.