Liberation?

As tends to happen in my life (as if I had no agency in this role :) I have jumped from one reality to another. From Sinai in Egypt into Ramallah, Palestine. Ironically I have left freedom in Egypt and entered a land where Palestinians are not free. By extension I believe that this further continues the enslavement of also Jewish Israelis, and maybe by extension Jews everywhere. On the larger picture we cannot be free unless all are free. More locally, the Jewish State here is a slave to limiting freedom in the name of security, to a militarized society where violence is the norm, to this ugly manifestation of clinging to a freedom that does not really exist.

We crossed to and from Sinai through the Taba border crossing into Egypt, where we showed our passports maybe 10 times each way. Keter, Shalom, Rivi, Yosef, Yama, Ahron, and I swam in the red sea, relaxed on hammocks, chilled with Bedoins and Sudanese, ate good food, and got a lot of sun. The corral reefs were a dip away and so I was able to go snorkeling everyday in a magical underwater space world. The deserts there is all shades of tan, and brown. Underwater though the fish and the corral are vibrant rainbows with awe-inspiring patterns. Five kids are a lot of work, and I give Keter a lot of credit for managing to relax through all her work. I loved playing with different kids at different times, though found my self needing my space sometimes too. After five days of sun, shells, and salt we crossed back and drove to their home. (pictures to come)

I immediately set off for Ramallah so that I could be at the PMRS office in the morning. It was an easy crossing this time. I met a woman on the bus who is from Calcutta, India, and is doing research in Jerusalem, through Harvard. for her PhD about the different monetary units that Palestinians have used during Ottoman rule, the British Mandate, and up to today. I really enjoyed meeting her and actually crossed back to Jerusalem with her this morning. In Ramallah, I am staying with my friend Souli, who is a gracious, open, silly, and helpful host. He is involved with getting Israeli and Palestinian children on soccer teams together to play against others.
Thursday morning I went to the PMRS office and together with the head of emergency medicine, we went to the Ministry of Finance to give a CPR training. Really I just observed and tried to understand all of the Arabic spoken around me. It has been a while since I have not spoken the language of those around me. I find myself impatient with my extremely limited Arabic knowledge. It turns out that with some Palestinians we share more Hebrew in common than any other language. Great numbers of Palestinian men have spent time in Israeli jails, where many studied and learned Hebrew. I don't like to speak Hebrew with them though. It makes me uncomfortable, both reminding me of my identity as Jew, and thus in this place as part oppressor, and it identifies me as Jewish, which sometimes I would like to keep private. I am learning Arabic shwayy-shwayya since I know that I have only been there a few days, and it takes time.
On Thursday evening I went out with Souli to a cafe that internationals frequent for a friend's brithday where we ran into several more of his friends. We ended up going back to his friend's flat for a long evening of discussion and relaxation. His friend, Isaa Freij is a Christian Palestinian artist and film-maker with whom I really enjoyed speaking with and hearing his stories.
As I continue to travel, I continue to enjoy the wealth of wisdom, stories, kindness, and hospitality of those I meet. On Friday I went with Abu Ali in the ambulance to Bil'in as medics for the weekly demonstrations that happen there. There was a lot of milling about in the beginning, with internationals and Israelis joining the locals (all men and boys). It was raining off and on, and so Abu Ali was hopeful that there would not be any serious injuries this week. He told me that last week, he had to take several people to the hospital. This was my first ride along in an ambulance! Crazy. So eventually people started to gather and walk towards the wall, including Dr. Mustafa Barghouti. We followed in the ambulance. People chanted, some went up to the gate and shook it, some stones were thrown. For a while I could only see one IDF soldier who was not standing behind the barricades fifty feet or so from the wall/gate. It seemed that at some point the soldiers found the demonstrators too rowdy and fired several canisters of gas at the demonstrators, at which point people scattered. Abu Ali showed me that the best way he knew how to help folks deal with the gas is by giving them cotton soaked in alcohol to put under their noses and eyes. We gave out a few of these cotton puffs. He asked me not to open the door or window for anyone as long as we were in the gas-filled air, so that we would not be affected. I followed his lead, and later asked him about the safety first philosophy of emergency medicine, which he told me was something that was a viable option in his work in Palestine and important to him. This is something I'm still trying to figure out. I think that many medics in the US would not think that bringing an ambulance within an area where tear gas was being fired, and other violence/danger was potential, would be putting safety first. It's all relative though. Since we stayed in the car, I was able to take several pictures, and was not affected by the gas. After a second round of tear gas, people dispersed, no serious injuries needed attending to, and we drove back to Ramallah.
Though I have never been to a Palestinian demonstration before, the whole process seemed familiar in the way that I've read about this, seen video, and then there it was in front of my very eyes. This high-stakes game is enacted weekly, and the players seemed familiar with the roles they are to take. I'm not make light of this. Their toys are real and deadly. It just strikes me that this pattern continues. I spoke with my younger cousin today about the demonstration, and he said that he understood why the soldiers fired on the protesters, that the soldiers could not stand by while stones were being thrown at them, that using rubber bullets was okay because it only hurts for a day. At the end of our conversation, we just agreed that it's complicated. I find this a common point of agreement with others as well.
On Saturday I went with Hasan (another trainer), Maher (PMRS employee), and Amra (interpreting for me) to Bet Sira for a training for some young men and boys there. The training was on fractures and transporting patients. Hasan and I switched off and Amra interpreted for me. She was incredibly helpful and amicable. Even so it was really difficult for me to be in an educator role and not be able to communicate with others effectively. Again the language barrier was frustrating. After the training, Maher and Hasan drove us around a little bit showing us the village and it's boundaries and the very close by settlement. The wall/fence divided Maher's family's land, and cut them off from it, and some olive trees were uprooted and planted literally at the edge of the road. The settlement nearby sued the village so now they are unable to broadcast the call to prayer customary in Muslim places. We visited Maher's house where his family had prepared a delicious lunch of Maklouba, and I kept on making eyes at the little kids running around the house.
Throughout the day Amra and I spoke. Now 23, she grew up until age 16 in Chicago. Her father is Palestinian and grew up here and her mother is half Palestinian and half American and grew up in the states. Amra still has vivid recollections of first arriving. The wall had not been constructed yet. In their first 3 months they had a visa that allowed her family freedom of movement in Israel and Palestine. Then when they received their Palestinian ID's that changed. She said that though they have US passports still, her younger siblings are afraid to go through the checkpoints and don't want to go. When they moved here her father told her that she would have to take shorter showers. I asked her where she wants to live in the future, and she said that the longer she stays, the more she wants to remain there.
So far I have seen so many intersting things, spoken with some wonderful folks, and have not gotten in any trouble. I know that there is a heavy focus in this entry about Israeli Occupation of Palestinians. This reality seems to constantly be on the minds of Palestinians. It involves their movement, safety, history, family, pride, freedom, futures, and past. It is an inescapable reality, literally, mentally and emotionally and at least when I am around a frequently spoken of topic of conversation. Ramallah is a place with much smoking and caffeine drinking. Stress-coping mechanisms.
Spending the last 3 days in Ramallah, has made it difficult for me to get into a mood for Pesach. I am with my cousins and we are going to a large outside seder at a friend of theirs. Everywhere I go around Jewish Israelis I am wished a Chag Sameach, Happy Holidays. This in itself is strange, where I am in a land where my holiday is celebrated by the majority and everyone else is very aware of it. Pesach is about liberation and freedom, and right now I am so angry that, atleast the way the US and Israeli governments would explain it to me, my freedom comes at the cost of another's.