BETHLEHEM - I will be leaving to go back to America in a few hours and am sitting in a comfortable couch in Ben Gurion International Airport; I am having mixed feelings about leaving. On the one hand, I will miss all the old and new friends here, but on the other hand, I miss my family and friends back in the Bay Area, and am anxious to see them. I came to the airport at 4 a.m. after coming back from Tel Aviv late last night with some family friends. Tel Aviv is a very built-up city along the Mediterranean Sea and, in a way, reminded me of the waterfront of San Francisco. We walked along the beach, and the pleasant but humid night air was a nice change. I always like to hear the relaxing noise that the waves make as they crash onto the beach. People were fishing along a barrier wall — both Jews and Arabs — and did not seem to be having much success. People were walking along the beach and enjoying the night air. We passed a hotel where an Arab wedding celebration was taking place along with a fireworks display, and then we bought shawerma sandwiches and ice cream. My passion fruit ice cream was particularly delicious; all the ice cream I have eaten so far inside Israel has been completely natural and fresh. You can pick the fruit and watch as they make it into ice cream.
We left Tel Aviv at midnight but did not make it home till 1:30 a.m., because there was an accident on the road. As we have driven around inside of Israel, I've noticed many cars with bright orange ribbons on them. Those who display these ribbons are expressing their opposition to the Gaza withdrawal, and solidarity with the settlers who will be removed from the affected settlements. In Israel, people are bitterly divided over the Gaza withdrawal — some believing that it is a first step toward peace with the Palestinians and others that it is a symbol of defeat and will compromise Israel's security. There was a huge demonstration in Israel the other day protesting the withdrawal. In fact, Minister of Finance Benjamin Netanyahu recently resigned his position citing his disagreement with the withdrawal, though others have insinuated that his resignation was really due to the shabby economic situation in Israel, where about 25 percent of the population lives below the poverty line. Palestinians also have mixed feelings about the withdrawal. Like many Israelis, some Palestinians see it as a positive step, but others see it as not nearly enough, and also a move made out of necessity, not choice. These people would argue that Israel simply cannot continue to maintain the settlements and that they are not losing much. Additionally, many Palestinians suspect that the withdrawal is only meant to draw attention away from the West Bank, where the Wall continues to snake around Palestinian towns, and settlements continue to expand.
We inched along slowly until we passed the scene of the accident; the cars were completely totaled, and I would be surprised if anyone had survived such a horrible accident. I came home and lay down for about two hours before waking up and going in a taxi to Ben Gurion Airport.
My taxi driver was an older Arab man who lives in Jerusalem, and on the way to the airport he told me that he would one day like to visit the U.S. He then stopped in the middle of nowhere to talk to some men who had started a small fire in the middle of the street. I thought this was a bit strange, but then he asked them if they had any coffee. They replied that they did not have any yet. I did not know if the fire was to make coffee or for them to keep warm as they were huddled around it.
At the airport, I was going to get in the enormous line to get checked by security, but for some reason decided to check with the information desk first. The young lady that helped me told me that my flight was canceled due to a strike at Heathrow Airport and apologized because she could see that I was pretty disappointed. Not only was it a hassle to take a taxi here at 4 in the morning, but now I might have to get a hotel room and go through all sorts of hassle, not to mention miss important appointments that I had already made.
So, I decided to try and bypass the security and speak directly with the ticket counter. There were only a few people, as I came a bit early, but one man in particular was quite irate. He was an older man with stylish grey hair who was dressed in a Prada jacket and shiny pinstriped pants. His partner was a much younger woman who kept very quiet as he let everyone in the airport know that he was a premier card holder and that this was simply unacceptable. He spoke with a British accent and continued telling the British Airways agent that this was an outrage and that he was due in India, until they finally took care of him. I was next in line, and the lady took my passport and told me that I was flying on El Al four hours after I was originally scheduled to leave. With thankfulness that I was leaving the same day, I agreed and took my ticket to the security line.
I do not know if El Al has stricter security precautions than other airlines, but it was ridiculous. I got in line, and a young woman came up to me and spoke with me in English, which was strange because I had not said anything to her before, and my American passport was in my pocket. She looked like she was in her early- to mid-20s, as do most of the security personnel at the airport. She greeted me and asked for my passport. She asked me where I was going and how I pronounce my last name. She then asked what type of name it was. She then asked where I had stayed, what was I doing in Israel, and if I had family here. I told her that I was here to start a public health project, and as soon as I mentioned that I was working in Bethlehem, she did not stop asking questions. What was I studying? Do I have a university identity card? Why diabetes when I am majoring in urban studies? What is urban studies? Why do the project in Bethlehem? Then she started throwing in some questions she had already asked, I guess to see if I was lying. It was a real interrogation — I mean, before I could finish answering one question, another off the wall question was asked. She then took red stickers and put them on all my bags and passport and ticket. I knew what these stickers meant from the last time — more inspections.
The last time they put red stickers on my stuff, they took my suitcases for further inspections. When they opened my suitcase last time, the first thing they saw was a hata (a traditional Palestinian headress like the one Yasir Arafat used to wear) that I had brought as a souvenir left over from Abu Mazen's campaign; everyone in the airport looked at it, and their expressions froze. That's probably why they subsequently took my suitcase to test it for explosives and who knows what else.
This time I was not so careless as to pack a hata, but they still took everything out, checked every square inch of my laptop, suitcases and bags with every device under the sun. While I was impatiently waiting for them to x-ray everything and do their jobs, I decided to try to talk with the security person. They had asked me a million questions, so now it was my turn. I asked him why I was privileged enough to receive this special treatment, and he said everyone goes through it. I looked around and did not see anyone else, except another man who was fumbling for answers as to why his laptop was modified. The security agent then answered that when he came to America, he had to go through the same thing.
Then another guy came and told me that I had to go to a private room and get screened. I followed him to a room that looked like a changing room, where he made sure that I had nothing on me. While he was searching me, I asked him where he was studying, and he said he would like to study at Hebrew University. I then asked him if he liked America, and he said, "Yes," after which I asked him which he liked better — Israel or America — to which he replied, "Israel." I can ask a few questions after everything they asked me, and plus, I like talking to people. He then saw that I was carrying a money belt under my shirt, so I took it off, and it to had to go through explosive tests and the x-ray machine.
Afterwards, he informed me that he would accompany me personally as I checked in and did all the necessary things before my flight. I have to say I really felt special. Never before did I have a private "bodyguard." I felt like a diplomat. But, seriously, it worked for my benefit because the security man did not wait in the lines, so we zoomed right through some of them, though people were looking at me — a suspicious young male being escorted by security personnel.
After we had gone through everything, I thanked him for all of his kind attention and shook his hand. He shook mine reluctantly and said with a smile, "Enjoy the duty free!" (He knew that I had five hours to kill.)
During these five hours, I dozed off for a while, typed part of this dispatch until my battery died, and went shopping. It's kind of creepy— even some of the store clerks in the airport are security agents. I bought some items from one store with no problem, but when I went into a baby store to buy a present for my nephew, the lady at the counter asked to see my boarding pass and passport.
It was finally time to board El Al, and I was completely exhausted. I walked up to the entrance as everyone was eyeing each other suspiciously, and the same woman who had checked me in six hours earlier was taking my ticket. As she took it, she whispered something to the woman next to her and entered something in the computer. I anxiously asked her if everything was okay, and she replied that it was.
As I entered the plane, I thought that sleep deprivation was really getting to me, because I was greeted by a clown! I really thought that I was seeing things, but then she made a fist and wanted to do a special handshake with me; I was so tired, however, that I did not know what she was doing. She responded in a Hebrew-English accent, "Don't you shake hands like this in America?" I just laughed and realized that she was coming with us on the flight, as El Al hires clowns to entertain the children. El Al is the primary airline in Israel and is known for its excellent security record, armed guards present on the plane, and now, I guess, a world class circus!
On the flight, I was seated next to two men — one was a 21- year-old former IDF soldier and the other a sales representative for a defense company in Dayton, Ohio. I started to talk with the former IDF soldier named Moshe during the flight, and he asked me if I was in the university. I told Moshe that I would be entering my last year this coming fall, and he responded that he had just finished his three years of mandatory military service and was coming to America for a year. I congratulated him on finishing his service and told him that I thought he would have a good time in the U.S. He did not speak English very well and was reading a Hebrew-English dictionary, and from time to time would ask me what a word meant. I could not help but ask his opinion on the current state of affairs in Israel, and the situation in general. Assuming that I was Jewish, Moshe went on to tell me how he hated serving in the army, and that it was a terrible life, but it was something that he felt was his responsibility to his country. He told me he went into the army as a boy and came out a man. I then pressed him on how he feels about the Palestinians, and he told me that he feels that they are the problem, and they do not want peace. He told me how he and his colleagues in the army dream of the day when they will live in peace and repeated this statement five times during the conversation. I then asked him how he felt about certain Israeli leaders — Sharon in particular. He said that Sharon is a hero, and that he is withdrawing from Gaza because this is what is best for Israel. I asked him about Netanyahu's recent resignation in protest of the withdrawal, and he called him a snake.
We continued the conversation, and then it drifted away from politics to Las Vegas. Moshe told me that he was going to visit New York, Philadelphia and Vegas and wanted to know what it was like. I told him that I had never been to Vegas, but still advised him to stay away from casinos. He told me that I was right in saying this because his friend had recently lost $30,000 gambling.
After about two hours of on-and-off discussion, I decided to share with him my background and what I was doing in the area. I told him that I was working in Bethlehem and the D'heisheh Refugee Camp to help Palestinian diabetics. Before I finished my statement, he immediately started saying, "I do no have any problem with Palestinians, personally, you know. I think that this is great that we can sit here together and talk like this." I could tell that he was a little bit embarrassed because he had been telling me for the last couple of hours that Palestinians were the problem, and here I was working with them.
I then said to him, "Moshe, I have spent my whole summer with Palestinians and have spoken with many types of people, and the one thing that stands out in my mind is that they told me the exact same thing that you told me moments ago. They tell me that they dream of peace and the day when they can live normal lives, but that the Israelis do not want it." He stopped and stared straight ahead for a minute before telling me that he believes that some Palestinians want peace, but groups like Islamic Jihad and Hamas do not. I told him that even in groups like these, there are those who may not outwardly express it, but who would welcome peace. I told him that it was my duty and his duty to work toward building understanding between the two sides. At that moment the clown passed by and bumped me on my head.
The flight from Tel Aviv to New York was 11 hours long, and Moshe and I talked about many different things along the way, during breaks from the in-flight entertainment. I also spoke with the man from Dayton, who told me that he was coming to Israel to meet with the Israeli Air Force as a representative from his defense company. Though I was not thrilled about the whole defense company thing, he turned out to be a very nice guy, and we talked about the food in the Midwest, and his travels in Israel. At the end of the flight, he switched seats with Moshe and me so that we could look out the window, because he said that he had seen New York a million times from the plane.
When we got off, Moshe told me that it was 5:15; my connecting flight was leaving at 6, and I still needed to pick up and recheck my baggage. Moshe told me that he would help me get my bags and make my plane, so together we ran to passport control, where a rude New Yorker told me that I should wait to be called, even though the security woman had told me to go see her. Unfortunately, it took an hour to get my bag, and I missed my flight. I said goodbye to Moshe, boarded the inter-airport train to four different terminals and, dripping with sweat in the humid, un-airconditioned airport, I finally ended up back at British Airways. A very nice and sympathetic employee first asked me if I was okay, and then brought me a box lunch. She then promised she would do what she could to get me on a flight that night, and after much deliberation told me to run to Delta, where I made it to the last flight going to SFO that night. I also flew first class, because it was the only seat left. I slept comfortably in a seat next to a rude Wall Street guy who was talking on the phone and would not give me the time of day.
After arriving in San Francisco, I was ready to kiss the ground after more than 30 hours of traveling and dealing with security and chaotic airlines.
Having spent the summer in Palestine implementing the Diabetes Micro-Clinic Project and successfully establishing 50 micro-clinics, I feel like I have only begun to understand the complex interplay between local, regional and international politics, religious conflicts, and the continuous struggle for a peaceful existence. A wise person once said something to the effect that if you stay in an area for a day you will write a book, if you stay there a few weeks you will write an article, but if you stay there longer you will not write anything at all. Truer words were never spoken. When you see the realities on the ground, including the staggering deprivation of human needs which continue to go unmet, and the continued violence, it is hard not to feel paralyzed by the overwhelming problems. But these negative facts on the ground are often dispelled by glimmers of hope gained by talking with ordinary people — the IDF soldier on the plane, young people on both sides, participants in my project, and even the Hamas officials that I mentioned in my previous dispatch — who all expressed a desire, or rather, a dream for peace in their own unique ways.
Let us not just dream of peace, let us create it!
— Daniel
Want to learn more about the Micro-Clinic Project? You can contact Daniel by e-mail.