ISRAEL

So basically, I lied. I am writing this entry from Irbid, Jordan, and not from Israel. The irony of this situation is hilarious, because by far the best internet connection I have had for the past four months was in the one place where I didn't post anything.

Here is a wrap up of my adventures in Israel/the Palestinian Authority.

I could do a play-by-play of where we went and what we saw every day, but I prefer to just write a little bit about the pro's and con's and experiences that I had.

So, I didn't sleep at all the night leaving from Cairo to Tel Aviv. I don't really know why. Packing, watching arabic music videos, taking a shower, more packing, reading scriptures, staring into space - mostly the experience of enjoying the "aloneness" of my five-star hotel room and 300 thread sheets. Being alone is something that a lot of Americans take for granted. As much as I love Arab togetherness, sometimes I will admit, it makes me feel claustrophobic, which was something that I didn't realize until I had the chance to just be alone for a while in my hotel room.

All the Egyptians I met were super nice. The guys were flirtatious. I must have gotten about seven or eight unwanted phone numbers and three different people told me, "inte masreah w khaaaales!"

So, I got on the airplane, and the lady sitting next to me was really excited to talk about herself, so I did a lot of listening. Remember, this is on zero hours of sleep. Proceeded to exit the plane, face to face with a bunch of weird squiggles (Hebrew letters), and the cleanest airport probably in the world - a fountain greeted us, we walked down a spiral loop to go through passport control. It was a lady behind the desk. She looked up at me, didn't say a word. She looked through my passport, then looked at me again. Then she motioned for me to follow her. I did, she put me in a room, and then left me there.

Remember, I was with a group of about 40 other people. I was worried, too, because I was one of the last people to go through the passport control; worried people didn't know where I was. I knew exactly why they were keeping me, though I would have expected them to at least tell me why they made me wait an hour and a half. Lebanon stamp in my passport.

I will never experience the ridiculous things that '67 Palestinians, or even Arab-Israeli's deal with when they cross borders. This experience was maybe one one-trillionth of the aggravation that they experience. However, I am thankful for it because maybe it helped me to be more sympathetic and sensitive.

Other experiences with borders, when we went in and out of the Palestinian Authority to go to places like Jericho and Bethlehem. Seeing the huge difference between the flourishingly arrogant richness of Israel, to the stricken and starving poverty of the West Bank. Sickening.

So yeah...I don't really like Israel. Claire, my French mom, told me that she wouldn't want to live in a country where the government does so little to help their poor people (talking about the USA). I remember thinking how that way of thinking was somewhat simple, and maybe even ignorant. So I know that my way of thinking about Israel was probably the same way, that I definitely don't see the whole picture, and maybe my thoughts were simple. However, I distinctly felt disgusted that there could be a country so filthy rich next to a country so desperately poor (Jordan). The difference disgusted me.

I know that my experience in Jordan made me notice things in Israel that I wouldn't have noticed otherwise. Such as the places where Palestinians live, the places where things are written in Arabic, or where they are not - but probably what had the largest and most lasting affect on me was observing the politics behind their tourism.

There are reasons for the Israeli government to invest in serious archeology projects. These ruins are great artifacts that tell us about the history of the world and the ancestors of mankind, however the Americans I were with seemed to take a, "Look at all these Jewish ruins that belong to this glorious Jewish state." Effectively erasing 2,000 years of history. Sorry, but I find that morally repulsive.

The holocaust museum was moving and powerful. I learned a lot as I went through the many rooms full of stories, pictures, and real artifacts (for example, a pile of victim's shoes, pictures of loved ones found in pockets of the dead). But it sickened me, the end - the conclusion drawn that the solution was the creation of the state of Israel. I cannot justify the messed up way the UN accords of 1948 were drawn.

The situation is infinitely more complicated than I ever imagined. It's not Israeli's vs. Palestinians. There are so many divisions between both groups, and the political/social tensions in this place are subtle and hard to understand. I don't claim that I do, or even that it is possible for me to. However, coming to Israel definitely helped me understand the situation of the "Israeli-Palestinian Conflict" better. There are Palestinians who have citizenship, and Palestinians who don't, and there are Orthodox Jews, and there are people who walk around the street in less clothing than in downtown Springfield.

Israel felt like the United States - sort of. If I wasn't marveling at the sites or chatting with Palestinians in Arabic, I was probably wrinkling my brow in disgust at either A. the ignorance of my fellow travelers (During the call to prayer, "Oh, is that the Muslims?" - "I think the Palestinians should just all get the heck out of there") or B. the overabundance of young (and female?) soldiers everywhere, or C. trying to imagine what my Arabic mom would say if she saw _____.

For example, most of the employees of the souvenir stores, the filafel places, and the hotels were Palestinian. My Arabic mom would probably go crazy seeing Palestinians making a living selling menorahs (made in China, ironically) and mezuzah's and stars-of-David. Or waiting on Jewish people day and night in the hotels.

It was interesting to me to remark how most of the Palestinians I met knew both Hebrew and Arabic, but almost none of the Jews I met knew Hebrew. I wish that there were a better label for non-Arabs, something that did more with race than with religion, but I can't say "Israeli". Palestinians that have been in Israel since 1948 have citizenship. It's so beyond my American paradigm of things...

Another "Claire" thought - I can't support a country where religion can determine citizenship. Church should not mix with state. People should be free to believe whatever they want, and it shouldn't affect their nationality. Do you realize that if I were to convert to Judaism, I could revoke my American citizenship, and request Israeli citizenship - and the government would give me an Israeli passport, and financial support to come settle the land? I have nothing to DO with that land. Yet, there are people who were born in Jerusalem, whose parents-grandparents-great grandparents-great-great-grandparents-etc. were born there, and they are issued a "Travel Document," - are denied rights of citizens, have to acquire special work permits in order to get a mediocre job - under the "citizenship" place in the travel document it is written "Jordanian." So they could go apply for Jordanian passports, even though most of these people have never even been to Jordan, and in their passport under "Citizenship" it would say, "Israeli". Meaning, effectively, these people have no citizenship. These are Palestinian-Arabs, who live in places Israel occupied after 1967, after the 6-day war. I'm starting to see the wretchedness of the situation between early settlers and Native American Indians. Occupation. WRETCHED.

Something else that was wretched was how Arabs are not able to visit these sites. They are incredible, and an integral part of their history! The history of mankind! Their own religion! Yet right now, it is impossible for Arabs to be tourists like Americans, Chinese, Indonesians, Europeans, Japanese, Brazilians...etc. Makes me a cross between sad and furious.

I learned more about Judaism and how Mormonism views Judaism in these past two weeks than I have ever learned in my life. Something important - I found myself standing up for my opinion. That hasn't always been something evident for me.

"I wonder how they're going to destroy the Dome of the Rock," said a very ignorant, well-meaning grandma on our trip one day.
"Sorry, but I really think that you should be careful with the way you word that kind of a thought. First of all, who says that the Dome of the Rock has to be destroyed for a new temple to be built? In my Old Testament class at BYU I learned that we don't know the exact spot of the temple, and it is not known whether or not the Dome of the Rock has to be destroyed. Second of all, you would never make the comment, "I wonder how they're going to destroy the Wailing Wall," and if someone from another religion were to speculate out loud, "I wonder how they're going to destroy the Salt Lake Temple," you would get offended. You and I may not believe in Islam, but we have to respect it, which includes the way we talk about their holy sites, and the Dome of the Rock is the third holiest site for Muslims. So I would really appreciate you not saying things like, "I wonder how they're going to destroy" it."

I had several extremely religious experiences. The most powerful one was ascending to the temple mount, seeing the Al-Aqsa mosque and the glorious Dome of the Rock (Komat el Sakhra). It was a sacred experience, hard to write about on an online blog. I was overcome with the knowledge, "JESUS IS THE ALL POWERFUL MESSIAH, THE SAVIOR OF THE WORLD." I can't explain it.

The other experience was going to the Garden Tomb. We listened to the tour guide explain why archaeologists believe that the place we were at actually was the place Christ was crucified, and buried, and where he was resurrected. At the end, though, the tour guide said the most profound and powerful sentence, "But even if this wasn't actually where Christ was buried, it doesn't matter because we don't worship the tomb. We worship Christ, the living God."

There is so much more I could write.

When I was in Lebanon, I felt a strong sensation that I am going to return to study there. When I was in Jerusalem, I felt the same kind of feeling about me returning with my family to tour the sites. Hezekiah's tunnel, the western wall, the Garden of Gethsemane, the Orson Hyde Memorial Garden - maybe next year's family vacation :)

One last thing. Coming back to Irbid, the paper-boy took me from Jerusalem to Bet She'an (Bisaan in Arabic), where I crossed the Sheikh Hussein border. (I had a blast, by the way - what a crazy experience!!!! However, it wouldn't be that fun to do it every day. Again, I can't really compare my situation to my Palestinian friends. I have this magic thing called a United States Passport, it's like a secret open-sesame code. The world is open wide to me, and I don't even deserve it.) Then I took a taxi from the border to my house.

The experience helped me to realize how close, yet how far these two worlds are. It took less than 1/2 hour for me to be back safely at Dar Hammouri. Yet, being here, I feel like Israel is a world just as far apart as Massachusetts.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city of a heart of Gold!

You know, I could spend a lifetime studying this place, and not come close to knowing everything about it. What a place. Destined to come back.